


Like A Fairy Tale

by pantswarrior



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Drama, Family, Gen, Phoenix Wright Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-13
Updated: 2012-01-12
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 32,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even if they have no money and he drinks too much, Phoenix is the only daddy Trucy has left - and she's the only one who can save him. Unless a handsome prince happens to come to their rescue, but that never happens in real life, does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She could tell right away, even at her age, that he was unhappy. He tried to hide it - lots of people tried to hide it when they felt bad - but they never did a good enough job to fool her. And her new daddy was even worse at it than most people were. Sure, he smiled and had a cheerful tone in his voice when he asked if she wanted to come live with him, but he was fidgeting, and there was something off at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes weren't quite focusing on her.

But she understood. He was going through hard times, just like her old daddy had been. A lot of people were. And even though he was having a hard time, he was trying really hard to make the times not quite so hard for her, now that both her parents had vanished. Beneath it he was as scared and upset as she was, maybe more so, although she didn't quite understand what _he_ was so upset about.

It was the least she could do to give him back the brightest smile she had and tell him not to worry. So what if she was just a kid? She'd been born into a family business, and she knew that all you needed to make it in the world was to have a good talent agent. And all a talent agent did was smile a lot, talk about how awesome you were, and make you sound even more awesome. She could do that - it was easy. When she told him so, and reached out, offering her hand to shake on the deal, she felt him tense for a moment... but then his eyes grew warmer, and that thing that had been bothering her about the corner of his mouth straightened out. For the first time since they'd met, he was happy. And she did it.

\---

He'd been crying. Of course she could tell, even though by the time she got home from school, his eyes were only a little bit red. But for her, he made himself smile anyway and asked how was her day, and if she wanted a snack. She nodded, but told him she could get it herself. Not that there was anything in the kitchen besides a banana, some cold cuts, and half a loaf of bread.

Maybe that was why he'd been crying, but she didn't think so. It wasn't that unusual.

Still, she wanted to help. She came back out and sat on the couch beside him, and once he'd settled himself better and she'd swallowed the big bite of banana, she had a suggestion for that part. "You know, sometimes when we were out on the road, my old daddy would realize he didn't have money for food. But it was no big deal, because Uncle Valant would just _make_ food appear with his magic. I bet I could do it too, if you want me to."

For some reason, the offer didn't seem to cheer her daddy up at all. Actually, he looked like he was going to start crying again.

\---

It seemed like a lot of her efforts to cheer her daddy up weren't having the effect she was hoping for, but she kept trying. She went into possible venues after school and tried to book shows. It was frustrating that no one took her seriously just because she was still in elementary school, but she'd _make_ them listen. Because her daddy sure wasn't going to be any help there.

It wasn't that he didn't want to get a job. She knew better. They hadn't known each other for very long, true, but she'd managed to piece together that the main reason he was so unhappy had to do with him having lost his old job. And it was also pretty obvious that losing that job had made him feel like he wasn't anything special. Like he was no good at all.

On the other hand, her job as his new agent was, of course, to sell him. So her first task was to sell her daddy to _himself_ \- talking him up, praising his good points, glossing over his failings, until he had to agree that he was actually a really amazing person. Maybe then he'd help.

And she didn't have to look too far to find the good points. He was a really great dad - he didn't buy her as many toys and props as her first daddy had, maybe, but he would watch TV with her, instead of just leaving her to it. He always asked how her day was, and really listened when she told him. He came to her at night if she had a nightmare, and climbed in to sleep next to her to make sure she felt safe. And he played games with her. Even if he didn't get into magic wars with her like her old daddy, he knew a lot of other really fun games, like 'Tickle Monster'. And when they were playing together, he really _was_ having fun - his laugh was real, his smile was real, even if at all other times, it wasn't quite honest. There were plenty of good things about having him as a daddy, and she tried to remind him of them anytime he looked unhappy.

Even after she'd managed to sell him to the owner of a Russian-themed restaurant on a slightly different set of talking points, she hadn't managed that first task yet. But maybe having that job would help.

\---

One job was all people really needed, she reasoned. Lots of people got by with just one job. So now that she had a job and her daddy had a job, they should be rich. Two jobs in one family should make them more money than they'd ever need. So her daddy getting that job was definitely cause for a party, even if Mr. Gavin was all stuffy and called it a 'celebration' instead. It was still a party, and she was a little bit annoyed that they had decided to send her off to a friend's house for the evening instead of letting her have cake and punch with them. She liked parties, and she wanted to see her daddy happy for once.

So when Maria's parents dropped her off at nine and saw her safely upstairs, Trucy waved goodbye and smiled widely as she opened the Agency's door, excited about the party. Even if she was only going to get leftovers. And there would definitely be leftovers, because the party was only Daddy and Mr. Gavin.

The wide smile faltered when she entered to find her daddy sprawled face-down on the couch, mumbling into Mr. Gavin's lap. There was a funny smell, and it made her feel kind of sick. It reminded her of when her mommy had disappeared - that's right, that was when she'd smelled that smell before. She'd been off looking for Mommy, and come back to the hotel room to find that Uncle Valant must have done the same, because he was so tired he'd fallen asleep on the table. Daddy looked exhausted too, and he couldn't talk right when he told Trucy how much he loved her. And he talked about Uncle Valant, using words that Mommy had said he shouldn't use around Trucy, but maybe he was just so tired that he forgot, and Trucy was too nervous to say so, because Daddy felt _weird_.

The memory was so strong that she just stood there in the doorway, watching Mr. Gavin pet her daddy's hair as he lay there talking about something she couldn't really make out, except that it seemed to be very sad because he sounded like he was about to cry. Finally Mr. Gavin looked up, and gave her a small smile, and even that small smile was fake. Like the ones Daddy still sometimes gave her. "I apologize for what you've walked in on, Trucy," he told her, calmly, and at least the calm was real. "Your father's a little bit... _tired_ after dinner."

She just nodded. There was something wrong, something felt really wrong, and she was kind of scared - but she tried not to let it show.

"Truce...?" her daddy mumbled, lifting his head and turning it, and he _had_ been crying. "Hey, honey... I'm okay. Okay? ...Okay," he finished, answering his own uncertain question.

Trucy nodded again, and slowly approached the couch as Mr. Gavin helped her daddy sit up. "I suppose it's time I take my leave," Mr. Gavin told him gently. "Do you need help getting to bed first?"

He shook his head, and Trucy answered for him. "We only have one bed here - he always sleeps on the couch anyway." But then she looked him over. "Daddy, you don't look so good... do you want to sleep in the bed tonight?"

"'M fine," he told her. Not a very good act at all. "Couch is fine. It's all fine."

Trucy was absolutely unconvinced, so after Mr. Gavin let himself out, Trucy stayed there on the couch with her daddy, and let him talk. Even if it was scaring her, how much he sounded like her old daddy had after her mother disappeared, and the smell she'd noticed earlier was even stronger on his breath than it had been in the air.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, and his eyes were too bright. "'M sorry I'm such a bad dad."

"You aren't a bad dad," she told him, not allowing her voice to shake one bit.

"I am," he insisted, gesturing awkwardly. "Pay the rent and can't get food... get the food and can't get the rent... catch up on the rent and the electric's overdue..."

"Well, maybe," she said, matter-of-fact. "That doesn't mean you're a bad daddy. It just means we don't make enough money. But now we're both working, right? So everything will be just fine now."

"I hope so, honey... I hope so. ...Didn't know it would be this hard..."

His voice was fading, so Trucy got up to get her pillow and blanket off of her bed, bringing them back to the couch. Making him lie down, she tucked the pillow under his head and spread the blanket over him, because he was too tired to do it himself, and kept apologizing. None of it made him comfortable, though, and finally she crawled under the blanket herself and curled up next to him as he murmured more apologies. He smelled like sweat as she buried her face in his chest, but that was all right. She'd rather smell that than the sickly-sweet smell that reminded her of the day her mommy vanished, and she burrowed closer.

"Sorry, Truce... sorry."

"It's okay," she kept telling him, over and over, until he fell asleep, and then she could fall asleep too.

\---

Her shows were twice a week now, Wednesdays and Fridays. She always looked forward to those days; she loved performing. The audience loved her. It was what she'd been born to do, of course - get up on a stage and do her magic act and get applause.

Daddy had seemed pretty impressed, at first. He came with her, to look out for her, and to make sure she knew that no matter what happened, even if something went wrong, there was someone on her side. Not that anything would ever go wrong, given how much she rehearsed, but she appreciated his being there.

For awhile, anyway. It wasn't that he wasn't still supportive. He still cheered her on and smiled, but...

She could smell it on him afterwards, when they walked home together. That same smell, and she thought she knew what it was.

"Daddy," she began to ask one night, "what's that stuff you drink at the show?"

It was just a simple question, so she didn't know why he flinched. A moment later, he raised his head, shoving the hand that wasn't holding hers deep into the pocket of his jacket. "It's a grown-up thing, honey."

Trucy was confused. "...And you're a grown-up. So why are you nervous all of a sudden?"

"I'm not nervous."

"You won't look at me when you answer."

He looked at her then, but then away quickly. The grin he forced as he made himself look back, deliberately rather than naturally, would have been more than enough to prove her point. "Hon... why are you asking about something like that?"

"It smells funny," she told him plainly. "I don't like it."

He reached up, scratched his head. "...It's kind of an acquired taste."

"Huh?"

"That means it doesn't taste very good at first, but after a while, you get used to it."

She made a face. "If it doesn't taste good at first, why would you keep drinking it?"

He hesitated before he found an answer. "It... makes me feel better."

"Better than what?" His tone of voice actually sounded worse than it had a second ago. Quiet, kind of like he was ashamed of something, and she was getting a little worried. "Is something wrong?"

"Not really." His wary glance down at her again showed him that she was staring at him seriously, and he quickly shook his head, averting his eyes again. "...Okay, so I worry a lot, honey. About... well, more grown-up things, like... money, and careers, and..." He shrugged. "...things."

He was usually better with words than this. It seemed like the more he smelled like that stuff he was drinking, the worse he got. But on the other hand... "It makes you not worry so much?"

"Something like that."

"Hmm..." Trucy frowned, thinking hard. "I guess... that's why you drink it even if it doesn't taste so good?"

"Well, it _does_ grow on you." He looked down at her again, though, and this time he looked serious, if a little sleepy. "But listen - it's not good for you. That's why it's a grown-up thing. When someone drinks it, they have to be careful, and not drink too much. So it's just for grown-ups."

Well, as long as he knew to be careful, Trucy supposed that was okay then. "Okay," she told him with a smile. "I still think it stinks anyway."

She was pleased when he laughed softly, but his smile was wistful when he quieted. "...I should probably stop drinking it myself," he muttered.

But he didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

Trucy was getting used to that smell - it didn't scare her anymore, now that she was smelling it on her daddy all the time. She still thought it smelled bad, but Daddy _did_ seem more relaxed now that he was drinking that stuff so much. He was more playful than he used to be, and he smiled a lot more, and he hugged her a lot and told her how great she was. He spent less time frowning at the things that came in the mail or sitting around feeling bad, and more time goofing around with her. It was nice, even if she made a face when she smelled his breath.

She was starting to see what Daddy meant about the stuff he was drinking not being good for him, though. When he played games with her, he wasn't as good at them as he used to be. But that meant she won a lot, and he didn't mind, and he seemed happier, so Trucy decided it was okay. Daddy would know when he'd really had too much, since he was an adult.

But after a while, she wondered. He'd started going straight to bed after he got home from his job, and then he'd get up late, barely leaving enough time to get Trucy ready for school. But when Trucy would ask over breakfast what he was going to do that day, he'd say he wanted a nap first. Sometimes, she'd come home from school and find him asleep, and she had to wake him up to go to work. And no matter how much he slept, he'd still look tired when he got up.

She tried not to bother him more than she had to. She knew how to get to the Wonder Bar herself, so if he wasn't awake, she would go on her own. Until the night she came home, and heard him talking frantically before she even opened the door to see him on the phone. "I don't know, I was asleep, and I only woke up just now, and I don't-"

At the sound of the door opening, he looked up to see her and stopped short. "Trucy!"

Her eyes widened at the shocked look on his face, the almost _shout_ of her name. But then he dropped the phone and rushed to throw his arms around her. "Trucy, where _were_ you?" he asked, squeezing her tight. "Do you know what time it is?"

"Uhm, of course I do." She hugged him back, a little confused. "It's the same time I always get home from my show. What's going on?"

"Wait," he said, pulling back to glance over his shoulder, towards the calendar on the wall. "Is today Wednesday?"

"Yeah..."

Daddy smacked himself in the forehead. "Okay... okay. Thank goodness. I thought it was Thursday... why was I thinking it was Thursday?"

The cell phone he'd been talking on was still making noise, and Trucy went to pick it up while he was busy talking angrily to himself, but he murmured "Sorry, I'll take care of that" and took it from her, apologizing to whoever it was he'd been talking to, she'd just come home, nothing was wrong after all.

"Honey," he told her seriously afterwards, when he'd put the phone away. "Don't ever do that to me again. Wake me up when it's time for your show, okay? I was scared to death."

"Sorry," she murmured, looking down at her feet. He really _was_ scared, and she felt awful. "I just thought... you'd been so tired lately, so maybe it would be better to just let you sleep."

They'd been together for a year now, and she knew him well. She expected him to tell her that he appreciated it, but not to do it again, or maybe say he wasn't _that_ tired, but instead, he didn't say a thing. Not until she heard a little thud, and looked up to see him leaning against the wall, covering his face with his hands. "...No," he said finally. "Don't be sorry, Trucy. _I'm_ sorry. I've been a pretty terrible dad lately."

She shook her head. "No, you're just tired. Because you're working so hard, because you're such a good daddy." She was starting to feel even worse. It was because of her he was so tired, because she was always trying to do things with him when he was already worn out from work, and from that stuff he was drinking because he worried so much.

It was him who shook his head this time, and he knelt to rest his hands on her shoulders. "No, Trucy. I haven't been very good at all. I'm going to do better from now on, okay?"

"You're just fine," she insisted. "You really are. You don't have to work any harder." But he kept insisting that he did, until she finally just gave in and nodded.

Well, she wasn't going to let him. The next morning, she got up all on her own, made her own breakfast, and got ready for school, and only woke him up to let him know she was leaving. He gave her a big hug and kissed her on the cheek, thanked her for waking him up to tell him (though he told her he could have woken him up earlier, it would have been okay) and lay back down with a hand over his eyes when she turned to go, like he had a headache. She tried to be quiet when she closed the door behind her.

\---

Things were okay for a little while. Daddy seemed like his old self again, which was... _almost_ good, Trucy thought. He was getting up with her for breakfast again, and had enough energy to play games with her after school, and they would sit together and watch movies before he went off to work or until it was time for her show, and those were all good things.

But he'd gone back to having that worried, distant look in his eyes sometimes, and she kept catching him staring at the things he got in the mail and rubbing at his eyes, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at it in frustration. And sometimes he looked sad when he looked at her too, when she offered to make them both dinner or picked up some groceries with her own money on the way home from school. She didn't know why - she was trying to make him feel _better_ , and these were things she could do for him. There were a lot of things she could do to make it so he didn't have to worry so much, and they weren't really a big deal.

Like when she came home one Friday afternoon to find him asleep on the couch. He had an empty bottle next to him with that now-familiar smell, so she knew it must have been a bad day for him, and only woke him up long enough to tell him she was going to go to her show, but it was okay, she could go by herself. He seemed too tired to really understand, so she left a note too and left it on the coffee table just in case he didn't remember, but when she got home later, he was still asleep right there, so she just crumpled it and got ready for bed quietly.

The next morning, woken early by noise elsewhere in the apartment, she thought she understood. Daddy was in the bathroom, throwing up - he must have been so tired because he was coming down with the flu. He'd taken care of her when she was sick last winter, so she knew just what to do, and brought him a glass of water.

After she'd gotten him back to the couch (with some extra pillows, and a wastebasket by his head), she ran down to the corner drugstore to buy some crackers and ginger ale. Once she was back, she settled in to find something fun on television, to take his mind off it, but he just lay there with his eyes closed, and asked her if she could turn the volume down a little. He seemed to be over the worst of it, and she snuggled up to him all day while he slept. When he woke up later, she asked if he was feeling okay now, and he said yes.

But then when Monday came, he came home from work and was sick again. Trucy stayed up with him, getting him water and making the couch up to be more comfortable, helping him to the bathroom and back because he was so sick he couldn't even seem to walk straight. It's what he'd done for her, after all. She even stayed home from school the next day to make sure he was okay, but he seemed to be feeling a lot better, and the two of them spent all day napping, after she'd closed the blinds for him.

"I'm really sorry, honey," he told her later.

She frowned; all she'd asked was if he was feeling up to something for dinner other than crackers. "It's not your fault if you get sick."

"It's not..." he began, but his voice trailed off and he sighed. After a second, he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug. "You're a really good girl, Trucy. I don't tell you that often enough."

She grinned a little, even though she was getting a little bit squished. "You tell me that _all the time_."

"Do I?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I still don't tell you often enough." He squeezed her tighter for a moment before relaxing the hug to just hold her. "...You deserve better than this," he murmured.

She shook her head, leaning it against his shoulder. "You take care of me all the time - I don't mind taking care of you when you need it too."

"You shouldn't have to," he told her. "I'm your dad, I'm supposed to be the one taking care of you."

"If you're my daddy, then we're family," she reasoned. "And family is supposed to take care of each other, no matter who's who."

He leaned back enough to give her a tired, but entirely honest, smile. "...Like I said before - you're really something else."

"Thanks." She smiled back, then changed the subject. "If your stomach's okay now, I could make beans and toast... or if it's too soon, I could have the beans and you could have the toast?"

"Sounds good," he agreed, but caught her arm before she could run off to the kitchenette, standing up himself. "But _I'm_ cooking tonight. I owe you."

Trucy watched him get dinner ready on the little counter they had, and was a little puzzled by the way his eyes kept going to the bottles on the back of the counter. And then, while the beans were in the microwave, he took the bottles to the sink one by one, and poured them down the drain.

She didn't think too much of it when they were back a week later. Maybe that was his idea of a magic trick, making them disappear and reappear again.

\---

Trucy was beginning to wonder if she should tell her daddy to stop coming to her shows. He was so tired that afterwards, he could hardly ever even make the walk home. And as far as Trucy was concerned, calling a taxi for just a few blocks was a waste of money.

And despite what she'd thought at first about them both having jobs, it seemed like they didn't have as much money as she'd expected. The bills were getting paid on time now - at least it seemed that way, because Daddy didn't get so sad when he got the mail anymore - but there was still as little food in the office as before.

Unless you counted the bottles. Which Trucy did, sometimes, and took them back to the store when they were empty, to get enough money to buy little things they might be out of at home. Bread, toilet paper - little things.

But there were always bottles. They never ran out of those.

\---

Emily and Maria let her come over and play at their homes a lot, especially when Daddy was working, and Trucy wished she could return the favor. Every time they asked, though, she had to tell them no.

"Sorry," she added one day, as they talked over the lunch trays at school. "I'd like to have you over, but my daddy... he's really tired all the time, and we would have to be quiet."

"Really?" Emily cocked her head, looking thoughtful. "Sounds like my grandma. We go to visit her in the hospital, and she's always sleeping. She wakes up and talks to us, but she kind of mumbles now."

Maria made a face. "That sounds really boring."

Trucy thought it sounded awfully familiar. "...What's wrong with her?"

"My daddy says it's just what happens to people when they get old," Emily explained, and her expression grew more serious. "That's why we have to go see her, even if it _is_ boring. Because she's old, and she might die soon. I mean, before this, she was sick all the time, too..." Emily paused. "Are you okay, Trucy?"

Trucy had frozen, a french fry half-chewed. Daddy had been sick an awful lot lately. "...What if that's what's wrong with my daddy?"

"No way," Emily assured her. " _Parents_ aren't that old. _Grand_ parents are old."

But Trucy wasn't convinced, and when she got home that afternoon, she plopped down on the couch next to her daddy, as he sat up groggily and scooted over to make room. "Daddy? How old are you?"

He frowned at the question, and Trucy grew more concerned. "What's wrong? ...You _can_ remember, can't you? Emily said that when people start getting old, they sometimes can't remember things..."

"No - no, I know how old I am." He sat up straighter, looking bewildered. "What brought this on? I mean... I'm not _that_ old."

"Then how old are you?" she challenged him. "Are you... fifty?"

His eyebrows shot up, and after a second, he started laughing, leaning his head back on the couch. "Not even close, sweetie - I'm turning thirty next year."

"Huh... That's not very old at all." Trucy inhaled, and exhaled a deep sigh. What a relief.

"I'd like to think it's not, at least," he agreed, smirking up at the ceiling. "To be honest, I'm barely old enough to really be your dad. So why are you asking?"

"...I... I just..." Trucy suddenly felt embarrassed. She couldn't tell him what she'd been afraid of. "...wondered."

She was glad her daddy wasn't getting old and maybe dying, but... she did wonder if something just as bad might be wrong with him. She scooted closer, snuggling under his arm when he reached for the bottle in front of him; he just looked down at her in mild surprise and smiled, hugging her when he settled back.

\---

Next year she'd be going into middle school, and that was an exciting thought. Middle school was practically grown up, wasn't it? Because after middle school was high school, and high schoolers were _basically_ grown-ups, going by the way they dressed and acted.

And probably that was why the fifth-graders all had a special assembly in the auditorium one day, with a bunch of special guests. There were a bunch of policeman, and a lot of her classmates screamed when one of them came onstage - Maria told her that that one was a rock star too. Trucy didn't know, she wasn't very interested in rock stars. Music was nice, but magic was way, way more interesting.

They were there, they said, to talk about some very serious things - things that they might start seeing among their classmates and friends as they got older. And their classmates and friends might even try to convince them to try it, saying it would make them 'cool', but it wouldn't. Even if it seemed like it for a little while, it could mess up your life, they said, or someone else's. And then they had some people who had gone through that experience, who came out to tell their stories. Stories about having been kicked out of their home, living on the street, getting hurt by people who were drunk or on drugs, spending their money on those things instead of food...

Trucy had been listening anyway, sort of, (her daddy had told her a long time ago to always listen to policemen; maybe not believe everything they said unconditionally, especially if they didn't have evidence, but definitely listen to them) but then she started _really_ listening. When the policeman who was also a rock star played a song at the end, everyone cheered and sang along except her, and when Maria asked her what was wrong, she just said she didn't really like rock music.

That night, while her daddy was at work, she took every bottle in the house and poured the contents into the sink. She ran the water to get rid of the smell, took the bottles back for the refund to hide what she'd done, then she went to her room and waited.

Daddy was always... no, he wasn't _tired_ , she realized now. He was clumsy because he was _drunk_ when he came home from work. She could hear him when he came in, and bumped against the wall, and his hand brushed over the light switch in the kitchen a few times before she saw the light appear around the edge of her door. There was a faint groan, and he said a bad word - but then the light turned off again. Instead of coming in to demand an explanation, she heard the couch creak as he settled down on it.

Well... good, she told herself, quite satisfied. She'd kept him from drinking any more. The victory was hers!

But then the next afternoon when she got home, there was another box full of bottles on the counter, minus the two sitting next to her daddy where he lay sprawled out on the couch.

\---

She was avoiding him now, rather than seeking him out first thing in the morning or when she got home from school. He was almost as good as she was at telling when people were hiding something, and she knew if he questioned her, she wouldn't be able to keep from looking guilty.

She managed to dodge the question for almost a week, listening to him mutter uncertain explanations - he couldn't have drunk the whole case already, no way - under his breath from the other side of a bedroom door, before he finally asked at breakfast. "Trucy... have you been doing something with my drinks?" Sure enough, the look on her face must have given it away, because immediately his face darkened. "You remember what I told you a long time ago, right? That it's something for grown-ups, and it could be dangerous."

There had been a vocabulary lesson a few weeks ago that had taught her a new word that she certainly hadn't known back when he'd first told her; that word was _hypocrite_. Instead of guilt, suddenly she felt angry. "I know that," she told him defiantly. "That's why I keep making it disappear."

She expected him to get mad. That program at school said that when people were addicted to something, they might care more about getting more of it than anything else. But instead, he looked stunned. Disbelieving.

His mouth opened, and she waited, but he didn't say anything after all. "They told us about alcohol at school. All the bad things it can do to you if you have too much. I don't..." Her voice wavered a little. He was her daddy - she wasn't supposed to be telling _him_ what to do, and she knew it. "...I don't want you to drink it anymore."

She made herself sit still, and her stare remain firm, even though inside she was cringing. But he didn't glare, he didn't yell. He just sat there for a long time, staring at her over the bowl of oatmeal. Finally he took a deep breath. "You know what? You're right."

Her eyes widened. "I am?" she squeaked, before she could stop herself.

He chuckled helplessly. "Yes, you are. I know I've been drinking too much. I've had plenty of good excuses... but the fact remains that I've been drinking too much. That's the bottom line. I should stop. You're absolutely right."

But even though he was agreeing with her, she saw his hands shaking as he said it. "Daddy...?" she murmured. "You're really going to stop?"

"Yeah." Even though his face looked uncertain. "...I haven't been acting much like a father, huh? I'm sorry, Truce - I've been... there's just _so much_ going on."

She was still a little angry, so she wasn't going to tell him this time that he didn't have anything to apologize for, but he looked pretty miserable about everything too. She nodded, and made herself smile like she was his agent again. "Apology accepted. As long as you really stop," she added.

"I will," he told her. "I promise."

And they shook again, on another deal.


	3. Chapter 3

Everything was better now, as far as Trucy could tell. Her daddy was back to his old self, except he wasn't so sad all the time. After all, they had two jobs, and he wasn't spending money on alcohol, so they didn't have to worry so much about money. He helped her with her magic tricks, spent a lot of their free time going to the mall or to the parks together, and they started planning a big party for her graduation, with her friends. They'd been coming over sometimes now, and thought it was really neat that he played cards for a living and wore sandals instead of a suit or some other boring adult shoes. Not only didn't he yell at them for climbing on the furniture when they played that game where the floor was lava and they had to jump on the furniture to keep from dying a horrible death - if they weren't paying attention, he might even jump up out of nowhere, pretending to be a monster rising from said lava to make them fall in. He especially liked to drag Trucy down to her doom, growling as she giggled. They were also really impressed that he had the Steel Samurai theme as his cell phone's ringtone - and that he even knew Will Powers! Not that they believed him until he called Mr. Powers on the phone, and had him say "For great justice!" in the Steel Samurai's voice, but after that? They told Trucy that her dad was really, really cool.

Not that Trucy needed to be told. She already knew she had the coolest daddy in the world.

But it was only a few months after their deal that Trucy smelled that smell again, when he got home and she ran to give him a hug. Almost immediately, she pushed him away, giving him an accusing look. "Daddy, you've been drinking again."

He tried to look casual, but the way he ducked his head made it clear. "...Okay, yeah, but not too much."

"You promised," she reminded him, folding her arms and fixing him with a stare.

"I just had a little," he told her, settling back on his heels, looking dejected. "I had a rough day, Trucy, I just needed a little drink to help me through it. You know how I said that it's bad if you have too much? Well, I was careful, and I didn't have too much. See? I'm okay."

"You promised you'd _stop_ ," she pointed out. "We shook on it."

"Trucy... Look, I know at school they probably told you it's bad to drink at all. And for _you_ , it is - you're too young. But when you're a grown-up, it's practically impossible to not drink _at all_. People drink all the time, and don't get in trouble - on special occasions, like when they're celebrating something, it's normal to have a few drinks. Sometimes people want a drink with me after a game at work, as a show of friendship. It's only when they're drinking all the time, and drinking too much, that they get in trouble. And I haven't had a drink for months, and I didn't drink too much, so it's not like I'm a hopeless drunk or something. I haven't done anything wrong."

"Except break your promise." She was firm on this.

He looked away, almost rolling his eyes as he sighed in exasperation. "...Fine, Trucy. No more drinking, except on really special occasions. I can do that, all right? Is that good enough?"

It wasn't what she really wanted. She wanted him to never drink again at all. There was something about the way he was acting about this that made her worried, the way he _just wouldn't promise to stop_ , but... if what he was saying was true, about drinking being unavoidable, it was probably the best she could do, and she nodded.

\---

Even after making him promise again, she wasn't fully convinced he'd keep this promise any better than the last time. She started going to the Borscht Bowl after school instead of home, just to keep an eye on him. To her surprise, it turned out to be kind of fun watching him play cards. Plus, when he was up against a tough opponent, she could help. She knew when he was nervous, and she could tell when other people were nervous even when he couldn't - so she'd let him know. He took it from there, and he won every single time. He was really amazing, and after a while, she stopped worrying so much about him drinking; she just wanted to go to watch him play, and help out.

One day when they were on their way up from the Hydeout after a game, his phone beeped. He had voicemail, and his face brightened when he listened to it - it was from an old friend of his who wanted to get together for his birthday in a couple weeks. He hadn't seen Maya in a long time, he said, and Larry was planning to be there too.

Trucy knew those names. It wasn't only the mail that used to make Daddy sad. There was a picture he had in one of his desk drawers, with him and another man wearing a suit, and a girl wearing a funny purple outfit next to them, and a couple other people, including a man who was dumping confetti over them. Trucy looked in the drawer once after he passed out on the couch, and saw it. Everyone had looked so happy, and she hadn't understood why it made him feel sad.

"Because things change," was the only answer he gave when she asked the next day, but he had smiled a little bit in spite of himself as Trucy asked who all those people were, and he explained. It would probably make him smile even more to see some of them again, Trucy thought.

Sure enough, Daddy looked almost like someone else entirely when he opened the door and was immediately latched onto by a lady with long black hair, wearing funny clothes - kind of like the purple clothes from that picture, which made it obvious who she was. And then there was a man there in an old leather jacket, grabbing onto both of them and hugging, and Daddy was squeezing back as hard as he could, but finally he let go and turned to Trucy, introducing his old friends to his relatively new daughter.

Things really had changed, from the sound of things as the grown-ups talked, getting caught up with each other, and Trucy listened curiously. But then Daddy said that some things _never_ changed, when Larry pulled a couple of bottles out of the bag he'd brought.

Trucy wasn't pleased. "Daddy..." she began, in a warning tone of voice.

He looked at her, puzzled. "It's okay, Trucy. It's my thirtieth birthday - isn't this a special occasion?"

"...I guess so," she admitted, "But..."

"What is it?" Maya asked her.

Daddy answered before she had a chance to. "There was a presentation about drugs and alcohol at her school not too long ago, and now she's worried about things like that."

"Ohhhh," Maya said, her voice understanding. "Don't worry, Trucy - everyone here knows their limits. Right, guys? And we're not going to drive or anything, we're just going to stay put. Nothing bad'll happen."

"Well..."

"I don't even like alcohol," Maya added with a shrug and a grin. "At least not the strong stuff Larry drinks. So we girls can make sure the guys are okay - how's that sound?"

She sounded so unconcerned that Trucy dared to smile. She had a feeling she could trust Maya.

Besides, Daddy was already getting out some cups, and Larry was pulling out some other drinks to mix it with. But then Maya told them to hold it - shouldn't they have dinner first, and what did he want? - and Daddy was grinning, saying he should have known where Maya's mind would be...

He'd already had half of his first drink by the time Larry got back with a bag full of burgers, which drowned out the alcohol smell; this stuff was even worse than the stuff Daddy used to drink, Trucy thought. But Daddy was okay, just smiling and talking to Maya, who was talking just as fast despite the speed at which she was munching on her dinner, and Larry - or 'Uncle Larry', as he'd introduced himself to her - was fine too.

They were talking about people Trucy didn't know, except for having heard the names a few times, and she wasn't really interested. She was beginning to think of asking Daddy if he'd mind if she watched some TV, but all of a sudden Uncle Larry was settling down on the floor, pulling something more out of his bag, asking Trucy if she liked to draw. Trucy wasn't really good at it, but who didn't like to draw? And Uncle Larry wasn't so good either, but he was really silly, concentrating hard as he scribbled pictures of goofy monsters, making up voices for them, and Trucy had to laugh. So did Daddy, since Uncle Larry's noises were kind of interrupting his conversation with Maya, and Maya just grinned and shook her head, telling them that he _could_ draw better than this, when he wasn't goofing off. And when he hadn't had a couple of drinks. That made Trucy look up at Daddy - she'd forgotten - but he looked so happy with all of them there that she thought he must be okay. Sure, he'd lost his train of thought, but Uncle Larry _was_ awfully distracting.

Trucy was having so much fun, sprawled down on the floor drawing a forest of giant flowers and mushrooms for Uncle Larry's monsters to live in, that she barely noticed Maya's murmur as she moved over to sit closer to her daddy on the couch. "Hey... don't you think you've had enough?"

On the other hand, Daddy's voice had been getting louder and louder as it grew later, so Trucy heard his answer clearly. "Wh... what'dya mean? I'm all right. Havin' a good time. It's my birthday."

"Yeah, and you're so old that I shouldn't be nagging you to sit up straight, right?" Maya's tone was teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something that made Trucy look up, just in time to see Maya's hand wrap around the bottle in her daddy's. "Seriously, Nick - I think you need to slow down. How about some water?"

"I don't..." He looked down at his suddenly empty hand, and then rested his head in it as Maya got up to head for the sink. "...Fine, water. Sure." His hand curled around the back of his neck. "Why's it so hot in here?"

Uncle Larry laughed - more like a giggle. "Dude, Nick. Are you actually more wasted than me?"

Unexpectedly, the response he got was an irritable glare, and Uncle Larry's laughter stopped abruptly. "I'm _not wasted_. I'm fine."

"...Okay, whatever you say, Nick," said Uncle Larry, holding his hands up in surrender for a second before he leaned down to start drawing again. "You're the birthday boy." Trucy wasn't so quick to stop worrying, but Daddy did seem to settle down again when Maya came back with a glass of water, and the two of them went back to talking more quietly once he'd started sipping at it. Trucy frowned a little, but turned back to the drawing - and giggled when she saw that Uncle Larry had changed a couple of the flowers she'd drawn into spiders.

Since Daddy and Maya were talking quietly, it wasn't really anything they said so much as a funny feeling that made Trucy look up a little later to see Maya reaching out to touch her daddy's shoulder. "Hey, Nick... are you okay?" And he looked kind of wobbly, pressing a hand against his head like it hurt, but nodded. "Should I get you some more water? Or do you maybe want to lie down?" Maya continued, and Uncle Larry jumped as she nudged him with her foot, having been completely absorbed in his drawing. "Larry, I might need your help here..."

But Uncle Larry was a little too slow getting to his feet, and it was Maya who caught Daddy as he slumped forward. Uncle Larry helped, though, once he was up, taking most of the weight off Maya as they carefully laid him down on the couch, Maya kneeling by his head. "What the hell," Uncle Larry was muttering, scratching his head, more impressed than concerned. "He really _is_ wasted."

"Yeah..." Neither of them sounded too concerned, but Trucy was trembling a little when Maya finally thought to look her way. "Oh, Trucy - don't worry," Maya assured her. "He'll be okay. He just needs to sleep for a little while."

Trucy knew that, of course. That wasn't why she was having to try so hard not to cry - but having Maya and Uncle Larry there, two other grown-ups, telling her he'd be okay, did make her feel a little better.

"Heh heh..." Larry chuckled, nudging her daddy with his knee. "Rock on, dude. Who woulda thought your thirtieth would be even crazier than your twenty-first?"

Maya rolled her eyes. "You think maybe we should put him to bed? Hey, Trucy, where does he sleep these days?"

He still slept on the couch, but... maybe he'd get better faster if he slept somewhere more comfortable. "I can show you," Trucy told Maya, standing up. "Over here..."

"Okay, let's get it ready for him," Maya suggested, offering Trucy her hand with a smile. "Larry, do you think you can get him alone, or do you need my help?"

"I can handle it - I mean, he's kinda coming around again, I think..." He _was_ stirring a little, and Larry tried to tug him up into a sitting position. "C'mon, Nick, gimme a little help here..." Instead, Daddy bent his head and threw up, making a mess of his pants and the couch. Larry hesitated. "...Dude, not helping."

"Ugh..." Maya wrinkled her nose. "Okay - detour to the bathroom first?"

"Yeah, I'll get him in the shower if you can find him a change of clothes," Larry agreed. "Don't worry, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks," Maya sighed. "You're sure you're okay with this? I mean..."

"Dude, you know how many times he took care of me while we were in college?" Larry chuckled, easing his old friend to his feet despite the mess. "S'cool. I owe him. C'mon, buddy..."

It was only then that Maya looked to Trucy, and her expression changed from mild concern to alarm. "Oh, Trucy... it's okay. He'll be all right in the morning. I promise."

From what Maya said, it was already obvious that Trucy wasn't doing as good a job as she'd hoped at pretending she wasn't upset, and it was that last word that did her in; she sunk down on the floor and burst into tears, throwing her arms over her head.

"Oh... oh honey, don't worry," Maya told her, and Trucy was crying too hard to acknowledge how grateful she was when she felt Maya's arms around her, hugging her tight. "Really, he'll be okay. He just had too much to drink."

"I know," Trucy whimpered. And that was the whole problem. Why couldn't she have made him promise for real? No more drinking at all? She hated seeing him like this...

But she pulled herself together, her sobs slowing to sniffles, and then she could be helpful again. She could show Maya where Daddy kept his pajamas, and while Uncle Larry was helping him shower, they could make up the bed and get some towels and upholstery cleaner and start cleaning up the couch. "I can take care of it, you don't have to," Maya told her, but Trucy refused. He was _her_ daddy - it was Maya and Uncle Larry who shouldn't have to take care of him like this.

Uncle Larry wound up staying in the bedroom with Daddy, on the floor next to the bed, in case Daddy woke up sick again, and Maya made Trucy take the couch that wasn't still wet; she claimed she slept on a mat on the floor at home, and although Trucy wasn't sure she believed her, she was too tired and unhappy to argue any more.

As Maya tucked the blankets around her, though, she spoke her name again, soft and serious. "Trucy... has this ever happened with your daddy before?"

She wanted to confide in Maya. She somehow knew that Maya loved her daddy the same way she did, and would want to help him. But right now, Maya looked worried about _her_.

So, Trucy shook her head. "No, never." It wasn't really a lie. Daddy hadn't ever fallen like that before, at least when she was around. And she'd always helped him make it to the bathroom before, or at least held the wastebasket under his head for him.

Maya looked a little funny, and Trucy had a feeling like she didn't quite believe her. But... "...All right," Maya said with a nod. "I guess it wouldn't... I mean, Nick never drank _at all_ back when I was around. He probably just had no idea what he was doing." And she smiled at Trucy.

The next morning, when Daddy had woken up long enough to groggily apologize several times to all of them and then retreated to lie down in the dark some more, Maya gave Trucy another funny look, but smiled again as she wrote something down on a slip of paper. "I don't know how much your Daddy's told you about me," she whispered as Uncle Larry gathered up their things to go, "but he and I are really good friends. And even if my life's kind of complicated right now, and I can't be _here_ for him... I want to _be here_ for him. You know what I mean? Same goes for Uncle Larry. He's saved both of us, lots of times. So if something's wrong with him... here's my number, and my address too," she told Trucy, folding the paper and placing it in her hand, folding her fingers around it. "Call me anytime. Day or night."

Trucy nodded. But there was a lady that spoke during that program about her kids, and how they'd been taken away from her because someone found out that she drank too much, and decided she was a bad mother. Trucy had already lost a mommy and a daddy.

...She didn't want to lose another daddy.

She smiled and waved goodbye, and kept Maya's number in a safe place in one of her magic books, though she knew she would never, ever call it.

\---

The television was on, but Trucy wasn't watching it. She might have been looking in the direction of the screen, but she wasn't paying attention - she was too busy thinking. What was she supposed to do now?

Or more specifically, what was she supposed to do when Daddy woke up? What was she supposed to say to him? What _could_ she say to him, how could she act, to make him really listen? Should she be angry? Because she _was_ angry, but when she was angry with him, it made him sad, and when he was sad, that was when he wanted to drink. He listened better when she made it clear that she was upset, and she _was_ upset, but that just led to him making promises, and he never kept his promises. At least, not about this.

Trucy didn't know all that much about this alcohol stuff besides what she'd seen firsthand and what they'd talked about at that program, but she knew she hated it. It changed her daddy, it made him sick and forgetful and clumsy and sleepy, and it scared her, and she hated it.

When the bedroom door finally opened again, she still didn't know what to say, so she didn't say anything, just listened to her daddy's shuffling footsteps as he went into the bathroom, and then after flushing the toilet, wandered out towards the sink in the kitchen area. His hair was sticking up in every direction and his pajamas looked even more rumpled than they should have looked after sleeping on them for one night, and Trucy wasn't sure if it was just that he really needed to shave or a sign of how awful he felt that made his face look kind of grey.

It was a cup he was after, and after he'd taken a long drink of water, he came to sit next to her. He plopped down hard enough that it kind of made the cushions bounce, like he was so exhausted he could hardly keep himself upright, and rested an arm along the back of the couch. "...I'm sorry, honey."

...And she hadn't even said anything yet. Well, that was a start, at least. But it didn't fix things. She still didn't know what to say, and couldn't quite look at him.

"I know I did a bad thing," he added. "Believe me, I know. I looked like an idiot in front of you, and a couple of my oldest friends. There's nothing you or they could say to me that would make me feel worse. So if you want to lay into me for it..."

He looked down at her, and she finally dared to turn her head to look up at him. ...He looked even worse up close, and any idea she had about being angry with him disappeared. She just leaned against him, putting her arms around his waist and hugging him tight, listening to his contented sigh as his arms rested around her in return. "Thanks, honey. You're _such_ a good girl..."

He stunk, but Trucy stayed like that for a long time, holding onto him. She had an awful feeling, like he was being pulled away from her, and there was nothing she could do about it but try to hold on as long as possible.

But they couldn't sit there like that forever, especially when Daddy was supposed to work that night. After he'd cleaned himself up a little, he almost looked normal, except for the greyish tinge to his face and a little shakiness. Trucy went with him, because he really looked like he needed the help tonight, and didn't say anything when he decided to get a taxi for the ride home, because he hadn't had anything to drink except water and he _was_ really tired and miserable.

She offered to let him have her bed again for the night, but he shook his head and said he didn't deserve it.

"I won't do that again," he told her as he tucked her in. "I promise."

The sheets smelled like him, and Trucy wrapped herself tighter in them after he'd gone, clenching her fists in them and pulling them up against her face until she fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Even though he'd promised again, she wasn't really surprised when she came home one day to find another box full of bottles on the counter, already open and with one sitting on the coffee table in front of him. But the fact that he _had_ promised meant that she felt perfectly justified in confronting him about it.

"Sweetie," he tried to explain, "I promised I wasn't going to get really, really drunk again. I won't. See, the whole reason I had too much to drink on my birthday was because I hadn't had anything to drink for a long time. And after so long, it felt so good that I didn't know when I needed to stop. So if I have a couple drinks whenever I want, nothing like that'll happen again, because I won't be missing it so much. Y'see?"

She went to her room and slammed the door, and didn't come out until it was almost time for her show. She scribbled a brief note, stuck it to the front of the mini-fridge, and avoided looking in the direction of the couch at all.

Since Daddy didn't say anything to her, she assumed he'd probably fallen asleep right where he was, and that was supported by her finding him there when she got home. She went to bed.

\---

She'd taken to leaving a lot of notes around the office, whenever she had plans to go somewhere. Sometimes he got upset, because he'd missed one and didn't know where she was. She unfortunately realized quickly that the best place to leave notes, where she'd be _sure_ he'd see them, was on the box on the counter.

And she was making lots of plans to go places. She didn't want to be at home when he was like this. At best it was boring. At worst, when he was sick or depressed, it was scary.

The day of her graduation was coming quickly, and the Saturday beforehand, she went and bought the cake and brought it to the park all by herself. Her friends' parents asked where her daddy was, why he wasn't there, and she told them he'd been really busy working.

And then after the party, she went home and woke up him up, prodded him to get dressed, and reminded him that he _did_ have to go to work, because he hadn't remembered that any more than he'd remembered the party. She didn't bother reminding him of that. It wouldn't have been a good idea for him to show up anyway.

\---

First day of school! read the note she taped to one of the _two_ boxes of wine on the counter in the morning. Her notes were usually more cheerful than she felt.  Only a half day - see you around 1:00!

But when she got home, he wasn't there. And unlike her, _he_ didn't seem to have left a note, though he had gotten hers - it was on the counter now.

She had fixed herself lunch and was sitting and eating it, wondering if she should go out and look for him - it wasn't like him to disappear like this. Not when there were _full_ bottles still in the office. And he got so confused sometimes when he'd been drinking...

But he was an adult. And maybe she _was_ a little more grown up now, starting middle school and everything, but it still wasn't normal for someone her age to have to worry about someone his age. At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

Not that it was working, and she had almost given in and let herself be convinced to go look for him when she heard the doorknob jiggle, and then turn. "...Trucy?"

He sounded uncertain, but mostly okay, so she sat up straighter and looked over the back of the couch. "I'm right here, Daddy."

He blinked at her - he didn't look so bad as he usually did by this time of day, she thought. "Where _were_ you?" he asked.

"Uh, school? I left a note..."

"Yeah. I felt bad that I hadn't gotten up to see you off, so I went to the bus stop to meet you, and..." He scratched his head. "Did you get a ride from someone?"

"No..." Trucy thought about it for a second. "Wait, you went to the old bus stop, didn't you?"

"'Old' bus stop? You've only ever had one bus stop."

"Yeah, in elementary school." Her heart sank. He didn't even remember that much. "I started _middle_ school today."

"Ohhhh," he exclaimed. And then he stopped short. "...You started middle school today," he repeated, his expression growing frustrated. "How could I have forgotten that...?"

Trucy didn't tell him, though she knew the answer.

"Seriously, how could I... I mean, I know that makes sense..." Daddy was talking to himself more than to her. "Right age, and... but... there was supposed to be a graduation ceremony. Wasn't there?"

"There was." She was starting to get angry all over again. "You missed it."

"But we were going to have a party," he insisted. "I promised you a party."

"I had one. You'd been drinking, so I left you at home."

The confusion in his eyes turned to dismay. "...Really?"

"Yeah, really." Trucy made herself look away. If she looked at that expression on his face too long, she wouldn't be able to be angry anymore. He looked so... sorry.

"How could I?" he puzzled out loud. "I mean...I only had a little drink this morning, because I got up and saw the note, and I thought I'd go pick you up and we'd have lunch somewhere together..."

"Well, I hadn't realized yet back then that the only way to get you to remember anything was to leave a note reminding you every day." Good - she could still be angry.

He didn't have a response to that. In fact, he had so little response to that that the next thing Trucy heard was the door opening again, and closing behind him. She didn't know where he was going, since her first guess would have been to get something to drink, except that there was plenty already in the office. She tried to tell herself she didn't care, either, and made herself pick up a deck of cards, practicing a fancy shuffling technique she was working on.

But she was still relieved when the door clicked open again an hour or so later. And she was nothing short of shocked when he sat down next to her, looking at her seriously, and she didn't smell alcohol _at all_.

"Trucy," he began - and he'd been crying, she saw when she looked back, and he looked like he might cry again - "Trucy, honey... I..." He stopped then, shaking his head. "I want to say I took a walk and did some thinking, but that's not true. I took a walk because I was a coward - I didn't need to do any thinking, I already know what's going on, I've known for a long time. I know I've said it before, but I'm sorry. I mean it. And I always meant it before, and... so I know you might not believe me."

The look on his face was enough to make her eyes start getting a little wet too, and she set the cards aside. "...Daddy, I know you've always meant it. I always did. If I didn't, I wouldn't keep accepting your apologies."

That did it - he blinked, and one eye overflowed a little. "Honey, I've been trying to tell myself for a long time that I didn't have a problem. That my drinking isn't really a big deal. But it... is. Okay? I _hate_ saying it," he added quickly, brushing at his eyes before he took one of her hands between his, and his fingers were wet. "I hate the fact that you have to hear me say it. But... I've got a problem. And it doesn't excuse the way I've been treating you, and I shouldn't be putting any more pressure on you than I've already done, but I needed to say it to you. Because you knew it before I did, and... I need to tell you that you're right."

He had to stop to take a deep breath, and he looked so miserable that Trucy felt her own face crumpling in sympathy. "Daddy, I don't care about being right - I just want you to get better. I want you to be like you used to be before you started drinking again." Her voice cracked a little, going high-pitched. "When you played with me and went to all my shows and my friends thought you were really cool..."

"Oh, hon... I know." He reached forward, pulling her closer, and she just sniffled against his shirt for awhile, until she'd cried herself out and he'd sniffled quite a bit too.

But even after they'd both calmed down some, she could feel his hands shaking. "...I'm scared," he admitted. "The thought of not drinking at all, ever... scares me. Even the thought of not drinking _today_ scares me. But that proves I need to quit, because it shouldn't. It's not right."

Trucy still didn't really get it, how after all of this, her daddy would still _want_ to drink, and be scared not to. But maybe she didn't have to. "What can I do to help?"

He exhaled a half-hearted chuckle. "You don't have to do anything. It's my problem, _I'm_ the one who has to fight this."

"But you're my daddy, and I want to help you."

She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him. After a second, he smiled. "Just keep being you. A great little girl who's worth staying sober for... It gives me a reason to try. Okay?"

She nodded, and he continued. "And if I mess up, call me on it. And keep calling me on it until I get it right."

She began to smile back. "You won't get mad?"

"...I might," he admitted. "But it's okay. Just in this case, you can make your daddy mad. Because your daddy might be kind of an idiot about this. But if you keep telling him, he'll get the picture - because he's not _really_ as stupid as he acts sometimes."

Trucy giggled. "I know you're not." Having him say all this outright made her feel a lot better. "Anything else?"

Daddy stopped to think. "Well... if you'd like to do me a little favor, something I _should_ do myself, but I'm not sure I can... But then, I think you'll like it too."

"What is it?"

"Show me a magic trick," he told her, getting up from the couch. "That stuff I've been drinking... Make it disappear forever. Okay?"

There was a tightness to his voice, but she understood. And he was right - she'd be _really glad_ to make it disappear. "Okay," she agreed, getting to her feet as well, feeling in one of her secret pockets for a few things she always had on hand.

Once she'd made sure everything was exactly as it should be, she turned her back to the boxes of wine on the counter. "Ready, Daddy? Stand back..." He obliged, and she flourished her cape in front of the counter. "Abra-cadabraaaa!" she exclaimed, and everything was lost in a cloud of colorful smoke, amidst loud popping sounds.

Daddy raised his eyebrows, bemused, when the smoke cleared. One bottle was lying on its side, draining its contents onto the floor. Trucy's eyes widened. "Oops! Sorry, I missed one..."

Daddy just laughed. "Don't worry," he told her, reaching for the roll of paper towels. "I'll clean it up."

\---

Of course, by the end of the day, Daddy wasn't so cheerful. He kept going over to the counter, staring at the empty space where the bottles used to be, and coming back to sit down, only to do it all over again a few minutes later. But he didn't have anything to drink.

Trucy had a half day the next day too, and was a little worried about what she might find when she came home. He was tense, but there were no bottles to be found in the office, and she accompanied him to work, just to be sure. It was a good thing she did, because one of the Borscht Bowl's patrons offered him a drink, and he reached out to take it with a grateful nod. Trucy elbowed him, hard, and then he remembered to say no. She was so proud.

He didn't look so good when they got home, but he told her when he put her to bed that he didn't think he could sleep. He was going to stay up for a while, maybe watch some TV. Her instincts were correct, however - she was woken by crashing sounds an hour or so later, and stepped out of her room to find him standing in front of the pile of pots and pans and other kitchen stuff she'd booby-trapped the door with. At first he tried to claim he just wanted to go for a walk, but after she insisted she'd go with him, he admitted to what he'd really been intending.

They both settled down on the couch, her still in her nightgown, him still in his work clothes, and _he_ was the one who was shaking. He didn't stay settled long. "Why is this so hard?" he muttered, walking aimless circles around the room. "This shouldn't be so hard..." She didn't know, but she stayed up with him until he'd worn himself out with all the shaking and pacing around and tensing up. It was a good thing it was only the very start of the school year, she thought - they wouldn't be throwing anything really big at her in the next couple of days, just passing out books, so it wouldn't matter if she wasn't getting enough sleep.

But that was as bad as it got, and after a little while, Daddy was getting used to it. He was still tense, and sometimes Trucy felt like if she looked at him the wrong way he was going to crack and fall apart, but those times were getting further between. She stopped booby-trapping the door when it hadn't been tripped for two weeks. And she'd hit on a really good way to distract him when she got that nervous feeling from him, like he wanted a drink really bad - she'd suggest going out for ice cream.

She thought it was great, getting ice cream all the time, and it was good to spend time together too. Plus, after a while, Daddy started looking like he was actually enjoying the ice cream as much as she was.

\---

After getting off to a shaky start, sixth grade turned out to be really wonderful. Even if the change to switching classrooms every couple of hours was a little confusing, and there were a couple classes where she didn't know anyone at all, Trucy was handling it just fine. Her shows at the Wonder Bar weren't even suffering from her having less time, because...

Well, because Daddy was acting like a daddy again. All the time she'd spent taking care of him was suddenly free time, and she didn't even know what to do with it. Except maybe spend more time with her friends again. And more time with Daddy, while she was actually enjoying it.

She'd taken to going to work with him practically every day now, not because she was worried about him, but just to be with him. And keep giving him tips, when he was having trouble with a customer. He was a quick learner, though, and pretty soon even Trucy herself was only just barely able to beat him. Maybe her old daddy had been right, about never giving away all the secrets...

But her new daddy was great. There was hardly any of that sadness that used to come over him before he started drinking; he smiled a lot and he laughed - not in that not-quite-there way he used to laugh when he was drunk - and he really did seem happy most of the time. He even started telling her stories about when he used to be a lawyer, and he wasn't sad at all.

A little startled, though, when she started getting phone calls from a boy in her math class. But he said he supposed he didn't mind... as long as he got to meet Bryan before they went anywhere alone together. And then when Bryan broke up with her two weeks later because he liked Missy better, Daddy was there for her while she lay on her bed and cried. Afterwards, she decided she didn't care about stupid Bryan - because she had her daddy, and he was better than any stupid boy. He even suggested they go out for ice cream this time, when she said she wasn't hungry enough to eat dinner.

The episode seemed to shock Daddy more than it shocked her, and he started getting wistful and a little nervous, and when she asked, he said maybe it was time to talk about the birds and the bees.

"Oh, don't worry about the birds," Trucy told him, confident, if a bit puzzled by why her daddy would be bringing them up now. "I already know all about birds. Uncle Valant used to do tricks with them! But, uh... I don't think I'd want to do the same kinds of tricks with bees. I mean, not to give away all his secret techniques or anything, but I don't think it's a good idea to put bees up your sleeves or in your pants."

Daddy just stared at her for a second, and then burst out laughing harder than she'd ever seen him laugh before. "You're right - let's forget about birds and bees," he said, suddenly relaxed and still smiling. But he did bring home some books for her a couple of days later, and that was when she realized that he'd been trying to talk about _sex_. Which was really weird and uncomfortable. And also kind of unnecessary, because Emily's parents had bought her some books like this last year, and she'd shown them to Trucy and some of the other girls. The whole thing seemed gross anyway, so she told Daddy not to worry.

"It's not really that I'm worried about it _now_ ," Daddy told her, "but it's best to understand this kind of thing and how it works _before_ you take an interest in it. ...Of course, if it was up to me, none of this stuff would ever cross your mind," he admitted. "You're my little girl, you know. Sex causes lots of problems, and I don't want you to have those kinds of problems. Ever."

"Okay," she declared with a nod. "That's pretty easy - I just won't ever have sex."

For some reason, his mouth twisted like he was stifling a laugh. "...I'd love to hold you to that," he said. "At least until you're twenty-five or something. But if the issue comes up," he added, growing more serious, "if there's ever anything you want to know about, or that you don't feel right about... you can tell me. Okay? I won't get mad. I promise, you can talk to me about anything."

And she believed him.

\---

A couple of weeks later, Trucy came home from school and found the office much cleaner and less cluttered than it usually was. At least until she looked in the corner, where all the stuff that had been on the floor was now piled up against the wall. Daddy was under the desk, picking up the box of paperclips he'd dropped last year. "What's going on, Daddy?"

"Well, honey..." Daddy didn't even come out from under the desk to reply. "I've been thinking. There's someone I've missed a whole lot for the last few years. And it's my fault I haven't seen this person - I haven't called or written, because I was ashamed. I lost my badge, we barely were keeping a roof over our heads, I'm playing poker for a living... and then I was drinking too much," he added in a mutter. "I didn't want him to see me like that."

"Oh..." For some reason, Trucy had expected Daddy to be talking about a woman, based on the feeling she was getting from him. "But why? We got through it all okay, and you're really good at your new job."

"Remember I told you about my friend Mr. Edgeworth?" Daddy replied. "How he stood on the other side of the courtroom and helped me find the truth... and he dressed really fancy, and drove a really expensive red sports car?"

"Yeah..."

Daddy finally did sit up, scooting back and scratching his head thoughtfully. "...I kept telling myself back then that he wouldn't like what I'd become. He's kind of... well..." Daddy didn't seem to know how to finish that. "I told myself he wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with a guy who'd lost his badge. A former lawyer in sweatpants instead of a suit, gambling, eating 'cheese product' sandwiches on cheap white bread to make the grocery money last longer."

"Hmmph." Trucy didn't think much of that, and she frowned. "Sounds like a snob."

"You'd be right about that," Daddy agreed. "If that's really what he was like. But I don't think he is. Honestly, the problem wasn't that he didn't think I was good enough for him - it was that _I_ didn't think I was good enough for him."

Daddy felt nervous, and was getting more and more nervous the more he talked. Trucy tried to reassure him. "I think you're more than good enough for anybody."

Daddy just settled down, resting his head in his hand. "You know, that's what I've been thinking about. Since I stopped drinking, I'm actually pretty content with how things are going. Playing cards isn't as respectable as being a defense attorney, maybe, but it has its benefits. It's not nearly as stressful, no one's life is at stake. It's nice not having to wear a suit to work all the time. It pays the bills and everything. As long as I'm happy with it, there's nothing to be ashamed of."

"So are you happy?"

Daddy looked up at her and smiled, if a little tightly. "Yeah. I'd still like to be a lawyer, if it were possible, but since it's not? This isn't bad. And it doesn't hurt," he added, rising to his feet to put his arms around Trucy, "that I've got the best daughter in the world."

She giggled a little, snuggling against him. "Thanks, Daddy."

Trucy thought about what Daddy had said for a minute. Mr. Edgeworth seemed to be someone very important to him. "So now that you're happy, are you going to give him a call?"

"I already did," he admitted. "He's, uh, going to be arriving tomorrow."

Trucy's jaw dropped, and she stepped back to look around. "Tomorrow?! But the office is a mess!"

"Why do you think I was down there picking up?" Daddy muttered. "I thought it would be at least a week before he could make plans to be in the area, but he was already coming out this way...

"Well then," Trucy said firmly. "Time to get to work!"

\---

Another plus to being grown-up enough for middle school was that Trucy was now officially old enough to not need a babysitter if Daddy was going to be out late at night. The next day after school, she came home and found that not only wasn't Mr. Edgeworth there, even Daddy wasn't there. He'd left a note.

Trucy,

Mr. Edgeworth and I have a lot to talk about, so we're going to do that over dinner. I might be back late. There's food in the fridge and the freezer (and you're a better cook than I am anyway). Maybe we'll see you at your show tonight - I don't know how long we'll be at the restaurant. Feel free to stay up a little late, since it's a Friday, but do get to bed before midnight, all right?

<3,  
Dad

Well, that made it sound like Daddy and Mr. Edgeworth must be doing all right, if they were going to spend that much time together. Trucy smiled a little as she pulled the note off the front of the television and went to find something to munch on before her show.

Daddy didn't show up at the Wonder Bar, but that was all right, and he wasn't home when Trucy got back, either. They must be having a really good time at the restaurant, she thought, and turned on the TV to wait up for him.

There was hardly anything interesting on at such a late hour, and she was trying to decide whether she should do the grown-up thing and watch the late-night news, or give in and watch reruns of an old sitcom about an alien, when she finally heard keys in the door and sat up straighter to have a look as footsteps came closer. But they sounded strange...

For a second, she froze. It wasn't Daddy who opened the office door. But then, the man who was now staring at her in surprise was wearing a suit in dark pink and ruffles on his neck, so she thought she knew who it was. "Hi! You're Daddy's friend Mr. Edgeworth, aren't you?"

The man blinked a couple of times before he answered, and he still had that startled look on his face too. "Yes, I am. And you must be Trucy...?"

She nodded. "It's nice to meet you! Did you and Daddy have a good time tonight?"

"...I'd completely forgotten," Mr. Edgeworth muttered, so low that Trucy didn't think it was intended for her to hear. "Absolutely, completely forgotten..."

Trucy cocked her head, curious and a little worried. This was starting to not sound so good after all...

Finally Mr. Edgeworth sniffed. "I suppose you could say that your father had a good time, yes," he replied, and there was an edge of disdain in his voice. "Too much of a good time, perhaps. He's not feeling very well right now."

Now Trucy was _really_ getting worried. "What's wrong? Where is he? Is he in the hospital?"

"Oh, no," Mr. Edgeworth said quickly. "He's just in the hall. He'll be all right after he gets some sleep - he just... overindulged."

Mr. Edgeworth talked kind of funny, and in addition to looking surprised to see her, he seemed kind of uncertain too, but Trucy thought she understood what he was trying not to say. Even if she didn't want to. "...He got drunk, didn't he?"

Something about her guess seemed to be kind of a shock to Mr. Edgeworth, though he barely let it show in his expression or his voice - it was just how he felt. "Er, yes. As I said, he'll be fine - there's no need to worry."

Except that Trucy's heart seemed to be sinking lower and lower and lower with each passing second. She wasn't _worried_ now, but she was so upset that she couldn't tell Mr. Edgeworth so. She was sure if she tried to talk, she'd cry. Daddy had been so good lately, and what if it was all starting all over again...?

"Why don't you run along to bed," Mr. Edgeworth suggested. "I'll stay out here on the couch with him, to keep an eye on him for the night."

Trucy nodded, mute, and having already changed into her pajamas, went to brush her teeth. She could hear Daddy's murmuring in the office as Mr. Edgeworth helped him get to the couch to lie down. She did cry a little then, covering her face to keep quiet, huddled next to the toilet until she felt like she could stand up and wash the traces of tears from her face, so she could bring Daddy a glass of water. But Daddy was so drunk he didn't even seem to realize she was there, or where he was, and Mr. Edgeworth suggested again, more firmly, that she might as well get some sleep.

She couldn't sleep, though, even after she was in her room, in her bed, with the door closed. The office walls were thin, so she could hear Daddy trying to talk to Mr. Edgeworth, and he was saying things that she didn't understand at first, and sometimes bad words, and Mr. Edgeworth just kept quietly and firmly telling him No, you need to sleep now and You're drunk, Wright, stop that and Your daughter is right on the other side of that wall but Daddy kept asking, and Trucy was beginning to understand what he wanted. She put the pillow over her head and squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to think about it.

\---

"I _will not_ lower my voice - as far as I'm concerned, you've earned that headache."

Daddy's voice wasn't as easy to make out, because he was mumbling, but Mr. Edgeworth's was very clear and crisp, even when it did lower slightly.

"Yes, she _is_. I'm glad you remember that you _have_ a daughter this morning, and that she might well overhear our conversation. I can only hope she heard none of the crude propositions you were making last night - it was bad enough that she had to see her father in such a pathetic state."

Daddy mumbled something again, but it didn't calm Mr. Edgeworth at all. "I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. No, on second thought, I am - you made a perfect ass of yourself last night at the restaurant. But I'm not the person who you _most_ need to apologize to. I was in a position to remove myself from the situation, and Trucy is not." Trucy heard him inhale, like he was about to say something more, but then he hesitated. "I think it's best I remove myself now, in fact, seeing as you're conscious and moderately coherent."

There was another pause, and Trucy thought she heard something like a whimper before Mr. Edgeworth spoke again, sounding dejected. "...Maybe I can think about it someday - when I'm not entirely humiliated and irritated by what this meeting turned into. But not now. You've not even sobered up yet, Wright, and that in itself is a reminder of how irritated I am. ...I should be going, I have a presentation to attend in San Francisco this afternoon." His voice tightened, and though it grew quieter, it was cold. "...Perhaps we'll meet again."

As Mr. Edgeworth stalked down the hall to the door, however, he paused, looking at the crack at Trucy's door, where she was standing and listening. He looked so angry, she was scared for a moment that he might yell at her for snooping, the same way he'd yelled at Daddy. But instead his expression softened, and he stopped drawing himself up so tall and haughty. "Trucy. Is this a problem your father has regularly?"

Despite that softening, she was still scared, and she shook her head. Mr. Edgeworth frowned, looking more stern again. "If it _becomes_ a regular occurrance, let someone know you need help. Parents are supposed to take care of their children, not the other way around. There are laws enforcing this, in fact."

In other words, he was saying that her daddy was a bad daddy. But she didn't believe it for a second. Her daddy had been there for her, just as much as she'd been there for him. And if Mr. Edgeworth was a lawyer...

She stood up straight and looked him in the eye. "My daddy is the best daddy I've ever had. Don't you _ever_ think he's not. He let me come to live with him when my old daddy disappeared, and he's _always_ been good to me. _Always._ "

That seemed to have some effect on Mr. Edgeworth, though she didn't really understand the little shiver, the sudden sadness in his eyes. "...I apologize if I implied something about your father that is untrue," he murmured. "I see you love him very much."

"I do."

"That's... something very precious," Mr. Edgeworth remarked, and averted his eyes, reaching for the doorknob. He disappeared with one last mutter. "...I'd be glad to be wrong."

When Mr. Edgeworth had gone, she opened her door the rest of the way, cautiously making her way to the office. Daddy was still lying on the couch, curled up under a blanket. The blanket was shaking.

Just as she'd expected, when she took hold of his arm under the blanket and shook his shoulder a little, he raised his head and she could see that he was crying. Without a word, she snuggled up next to him, and he sobbed against her shoulder as she hugged him and stroked his hair like he'd stroked hers while she lay on her bed and cried.

It was easy enough to see that Daddy loved Mr. Edgeworth, kind of like she'd loved Bryan. Probably even more than that, since he'd wanted to do those gross things with Mr. Edgeworth. But it seemed like Mr. Edgeworth didn't love him back, not enough to take care of him when he was drunk.

She was the only person who loved Daddy like that, and she hugged him fiercely. She, at least, was never going to leave him, no matter how bad things got. Just like he'd never leave her.

He smelled like alcohol and sweat, and she was really hungry for breakfast, but she just stayed there when he fell asleep again in his exhaustion, snoring in her lap.

\---

She dreaded him waking up for good. He'd been dozing off on the couch ever since Mr. Edgeworth left, and she could deal with that - she'd called the Borscht Bowl to tell them he was sick and couldn't make it in that night (and it was true; when people got like this over someone, wasn't it called 'lovesick'?), and she brought him more water, and she stayed close by him for the whole weekend. But if he got up and started walking around again, she had a feeling she knew what he'd want.

When he finally did sit up, groggy but mostly straight, and rub his eyes, he just said they needed groceries.

"No we don't," she told him. She tried to sound confident, because he looked a lot better than he had been looking. But she still wasn't sure he was okay - which meant she had to be strong for him. "You haven't been eating, and I've just been making peanut butter sandwiches - and I'm not out of peanut butter or bread, so we're not out of anything."

"But you need lunch for school this week."

"I can eat in the cafeteria," she offered. "I mean, I make enough money with my shows, and they're having mac and cheese tomorrow. And if I get tired of cafeteria food, I can bring more peanut butter sandwiches."

"You shouldn't have to just eat peanut butter sandwiches."

She was beginning to get the idea, but since he wasn't saying it, she wouldn't either. "That's why I thought maybe I'd have lunch in the cafeteria a couple times too."

He smiled, quickly and without humor. "I'd like something more to eat than peanut butter sandwiches too, though."

"Well," Trucy began, counting off all the things she remembered seeing in the cupboard, "we've got baked beans, soup, canned peaches, canned tomatoes, a couple different kinds of pasta, muffin mix, instant potatoes, rice-"

"Trucy," Daddy interrupted her. "I appreciate it, but I really think I should go do some shopping."

"Okay, just tell me what you want," she suggested. "I'll go get it for you, and you can relax."

He shook his head. "I really need to get out of the office for a while, sweetie. I'll take care of it."

"If you insist." But he couldn't fool her, and she stood in front of him as he got to his feet, forcing him to look her in the eye. "But I'm going to be really mad at you if you come back with a bunch of bottles."

She'd expected as much, but she still felt her heart sink when he hesitated.

"...Honey..." The guilt was clear in his voice, as if it hadn't been obvious already, and he sounded as exhausted as he looked. "It's been a rough couple of days."

"I know. That's why I offered to go and get whatever you wanted from the store, so you could take it easy."

"Look," he tried to explain, "I'm really not feeling so great right now-"

"Drinking doesn't help that." Trucy set herself firmly, raising her voice. "If anything, it just makes you sick too."

"Mr. Edgeworth is someone really important to me," he insisted, and Trucy almost wavered a little bit in her determination, because his voice _did_ waver a little, "and I don't think it's out of line to need a little drink when someone really important to you is mad at you."

"He's mad at you _because you were drinking_."

There was a flush to Daddy's cheeks, and the look of guilt in his eyes deepened, but he shook his head. "It doesn't matter now if he approves or not. He's already decided I'm worthless..."

"So don't prove him right!" Trucy exclaimed in exasperation.

But she just wasn't getting through to him. "If he hates me, I don't even see a reason to try anymore..."

It probably sounded selfish, but she'd been wanting to say it, and she was out of ideas. "What about _me_?"

Her voice broke a little, and Daddy just stared at her. Not surprised, just... even she couldn't figure out what was going through his mind.

But the same things had been going over and over in her mind, and now that she'd started, she couldn't stop. "Aren't _I_ a good enough reason to try? You said that a long time ago, that I was worth staying sober for. I know you weren't lying - I could tell. So did it change? Is Mr. Edgeworth being mad at you worse than _me_ being mad at you? Is he more important?"

Daddy rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "...Sorry, honey - I really can't have this conversation right now."

"Then when are we going to have it?" she demanded as he stepped around her, but he said nothing, heading for the bathroom.

Trucy hadn't realized she'd started crying until she tasted salt at the corner of her mouth, and she sat down on the couch Daddy had just vacated. She wasn't even sure _what_ was responsible for her crying, exactly, she was such a mess of bad feelings - helplessness and anger and sadness and fear and... the feeling that she'd been reduced to someone less important in her daddy's life than a frilly jerk who didn't even know him anymore. That was probably the worst. She grabbed a pillow from the end of the couch, hugged it, squeezed it until she was practically strangling it - even took the corner between her teeth and _bit_ it in her fury.

But Daddy didn't say anything when he came out of the bathroom, dressed and washed. He just reached for the jacket that was hanging by the door. Since his head was turned away, Trucy had to speak out loud to get his attention, but by that time she'd vented enough on the pillow that she could speak without shouting. "I meant it, Daddy. I'm going to be really mad if you bring back a bunch of bottles."

He hesitated for a second, but avoided her eyes as he opened the door and left. She sank her teeth into the pillow again.

She didn't expect him to be gone so long as he was. Usually it was a pretty quick trip when he was getting something to drink. But he was gone too long for Trucy to believe he really was picking up other kinds of groceries too, which was strange. She went over her routine for the Wonder Bar, just to concentrate on something other than how awful she felt, and ran through it three times before the fake smile started to make her teeth ache. She practiced tossing cards into her magician's hat, and didn't have much luck.

After a few hours, she was just tossing the cards aimlessly onto the floor, not caring if they landed anywhere near her hat. It was dark, and she was getting really worried. Daddy had been really upset - what if he did something terrible? Or what if she'd made him think she didn't want him to come back?

Eventually she gave up and went to bed - she was just sitting there anyway, having run out of cards to throw.

She had no idea what time it was when she was woken up by the bedroom door opening, and then more solidly woken by Daddy's surprised mumble as he tripped over something on her floor and caught himself on the wall. But he didn't fall, and before she'd even finished sitting up and yawning, he was kneeling down by her bed. "Trucy, honey, I'm back," he was murmuring, and his breath absolutely _reeked_ of alcohol, but she was so relieved that she didn't think she cared. "Look, look what I - I didn't bring back any bottles, like you said, but I brought _you_ something, see..."

The streetlights were just below the windows, so there was enough light for her to see what he was removing from his jacket - a stuffed frog, bright green even in the dim light. "I saw him at the store," he explained, his words slurred, as he pointed out the frog's accessories, "see, and he's got a little blue top hat, just like yours, so I knew I had to rescue him from that display rack..."

No matter how cute, a stuffed frog wasn't going to make up for him ignoring her like that. ...But it _was_ cute, and the fact that he had thought of her, that he hadn't _completely_ stopped caring about her, and...

She was crying again even before he pushed the frog into her arms, taking her hands. "Honey, I'm sorry, you know you're really important to me, right? You're my daughter, you're an _amazing_ daughter, and an amazing magician, and you mean so much to me, I can't even begin to tell you, you're _not_ less important - it's just Miles is important too..."

And they both cried for awhile, as Daddy tried to tell her how he and Mr. Edgeworth had been friends since they were little kids - but he kept skipping around to different parts of the story, and he couldn't seem to decide whether this prosecutor named "Karma" was a man or a woman, but Trucy nodded and tried to follow along, because it _was_ important to Daddy.

"You see?" he finished, snuggling her against his chest, with the frog between them in her lap. "You see... this is really rough on me - and you're right, I know, shouldn't be drinking any more, but it's going to take some time before I can really get over it - so just give me a little while, okay, sweetie? I promise, I won't bring any more bottles home, okay?"

It wasn't the idea of him bringing bottles home that made her mad, but it _was_ what she'd told him, and he'd remembered that... it was encouraging, wasn't it? Even if it just meant he got drunk somewhere else, at least he was paying attention to what she told him. That had to mean something, right?

"Okay. Okay," he said as she nodded, and he hugged her tighter before he stood up, unsteady. "I'm really tired, honey... thanks for listening, okay? Sorry, I need to..."

He sounded confused, and looked disoriented, so Trucy helped him to the couch. She gave the frog a big hug before settling it in Daddy's arms; it seemed like he could use the comfort even more than she did. "See you in the morning, sweetie," he mumbled, already drifting off.

But he didn't, because when she woke up, he was still sound asleep, with the frog loosely nestled against him, tucked under his chin. Trucy quietly got ready for school, and hoped he'd just sleep until she got back.


	5. Chapter 5

Daddy kept asking for time. More and more of it. Sometimes Trucy didn't have much time herself, but there was time enough for Daddy.

And it wasn't so bad, not really. Even if he was spending all his time drunk again, it wasn't because he didn't love her. He got so upset when she accused him of not caring, and _she_ wound up feeling guilty for making him feel so bad about himself, for making him cry and apologize over and over, and try to do things that he just couldn't do. He loved her. She was important. He just _couldn't stop_ , and that was all. He drank more when he was upset, and that was all the more reason for her to stop fighting with him about it, and she gave up on complaining when he started buying cases again. Whenever she felt bad about it, she just hugged the stuffed frog he'd given her, and remembered what he'd said. She knew it wasn't her fault.

Because - maybe she was just used to it, but - even when he'd been drinking, he wasn't entirely a bad daddy. He still hugged her and played songs for her on the piano (or at least he tried), and watched TV with her, and took care of her if she wasn't feeling well, and he went to work most of the time, and bought her little things just because. He even managed to get up and shave and look respectable when the time came for her middle school graduation, with only a little drink beforehand. He stood up and whistled when her name was called, and Trucy didn't care that her friends were laughing. That was a perfectly normal sort of embarrassing daddy thing, and she might even have been as proud of him as he was of her.

Besides, her friends weren't really her friends so much any more by that point. There had been an end-of-the-year party, and Maria's older brother had offered to let them try beer, since they were going into high school. Some of the other people there had made fun of Trucy for pointing out that it was illegal and then leaving in a huff when they opened it anyway, and now Maria was kind of mad and Emily only talked to Trucy when no one else was around.

That was fine with Trucy. Just fine. She didn't need friends like that anyway; she had her hands full with her shows and her daddy without having to look out for stupid kids who didn't know why drinking was bad.

And then high school started, and she _really_ had her hands full.

She'd thought the amount of homework in middle school was staggering. High school was way, way worse. She already had barely enough time to perfect her shows and think of new tricks to add to them, to change it up for an audience who wasn't surprised any more by her old tricks. Not that she wasn't still a popular attraction, and in fact the owner of the Wonder Bar asked if she wanted to add a third show per week. Trucy had to say no, even though she wanted to - she'd never be able to finish her homework if she spent more time in front of the crowds.

The drinking was starting to really wear on Daddy, too. There were more and more days when he just couldn't get up without a drink, and some days where he couldn't get up at all, and wound up not going to work. Given the nature of his job, his boss didn't really care so much if he wasn't there on a given day, so he wasn't going to get fired - but it meant that whenever he didn't show up, he didn't get paid. Sometimes Trucy offered to get some groceries so he didn't have to get up at all, but he wouldn't have any money. Trucy could add what she made to whatever he happened to have, so they weren't going to starve, but it made him depressed, and then he drank more, and then they made less.

Every now and then, frustrated and overwhelmed, Trucy actually considered doing what Maya and Mr. Edgeworth had suggested and letting someone know that her daddy was having problems. She wanted some help, she wanted a break from taking care of them, just for a little while. But she didn't want to lose another daddy, and she didn't want _him_ to lose _her_ either, so she just curled up on her bed with the stuffed frog, squeezing it and hoping.

"You know, Mr. Frog," she commented one night, holding the frog up above her while she lay in her bed, regarding it thoughtfully, "if this was a fairy tale, this is the part where I would kiss you, and you'd turn into a handsome prince. My very own knight in shining armor, to charge in and fix everything, and... and lift the curse on Daddy, so we could all live happily ever after." She considered, and shrugged. "Okay, so maybe I'm more like a court wizard than a princess..."

But, well, she _was_ a Gramarye, magic was in her blood. After a moment's pause, she kissed the frog right on his stitched lips.

...

She sighed and set the frog back beside her pillow. They'd read some fairy tales in school, and the original versions of most of them were pretty gruesome. And she was probably a little too old for stuffed animals, too.

Her grades were already slipping; she agreed to a Saturday night show at the Wonder Bar. It would bring in more money, and that was what she needed more than good grades. Still not quite enough, but then she got some advice from one of the performers who went on later Saturday night. Trucy wasn't sure whether to be pleased that she was indeed getting more tips when she passed the hat at the end, or embarrassed to be wearing such a short dress in front of all those people.

\---

Then one night she came home from a show and found Daddy passed out on the bathroom floor instead of at work. That in itself wasn't _too_ unusual these days. But the fact that he didn't wake up when she shook him a little? That wasn't normal.

"Daddy," she murmured, grabbing his shoulder and shaking harder. "Come on... You need a shower, and a clean shirt, _then_ you can sleep, okay?" There was still no response, and she sighed, rolling him over onto his back, away from the toilet. "It really won't take long, just..."

But he didn't look so good. Not just because he'd been sick on the floor and passed out in it - he _really_ didn't look so good. Kind of pale and sweaty. She gave him a gentle slap on the cheek. "Daddy..." His jaw moved a little, he made a faint groaning sound, but that was it.

"Daddy?" Trucy was starting to get really worried, and she tried slapping him again, harder. "Daddy, come on, wake up. ...Y-you're scaring me, wake up. Come on..."

But nothing happened, whether she slapped him or shook him or poked him, and she sat back on her heels, feeling the terror creeping up on her... He was still breathing, she made herself remember that. Still breathing, if kind of slowly... and she was breathing too fast, and trying not to break down.

It wasn't until after she'd called 911 and told them that her daddy needed help that she suddenly realized what she'd just done. They'd find out. They'd know, and they'd take her away.

...Maybe they didn't have to find out.

Daddy wasn't reacting to anything she did anyway, so after checking on him again, she rushed through the office, spraying air freshener, picking up every bottle she could find, empty or full, and using her best magician's instincts to find a place they could disappear to. The sirens were getting close by the time she'd finished, and she took a deep breath and a last look around. The place was a mess, but a normal sort of mess, and it _definitely_ didn't look like anyone had been drinking in there, or even intending to drink.

When the paramedics asked, she said she didn't know what he might have been drinking - he didn't usually drink at all. She hated lying to people who were trying to help him, but what else could she do? And then they loaded him onto a stretcher, and she rode in the front of the ambulance while they took care of Daddy in the back.

By the time they arrived at the hospital, there were tubes down his throat and in his arm, and Trucy couldn't look; a nurse took her aside as they wheeled him in, and gave her a box of tissues and showed her to a small, quiet room behind some curtains, with a hospital bed. He'd be all right, the nurse assured her. This level of alcohol poisoning was manageable, thanks to Trucy's quick call for help. And then she just waited for a long time, with the occasional check by a nurse or a doctor to make sure she was all right, and say again that it looked like Daddy was going to be just fine, given some more time to recover, and then to tell her that if she wanted to lie down and get a little sleep, they'd let her know if anything changed. Trucy knew she couldn't sleep, but she laid down anyway, and wished she'd brought Mr. Frog with her.

The folds of the curtain were practically burned into her vision, and the corner of the flimsy sheet twisted and mauled between her restless fingers, when someone carefully, _finally_ , pushed the curtain back a little to peek in at her. At once, Trucy started to sit up, and then the nurse pushed it back further to come in. "Did you get any sleep, honey?" she asked sympathetically, and Trucy shook her head. "I'm sorry - this hasn't been a very restful night, huh? Well, since you're awake, I thought I'd let you know that your father is too. He's been awake for awhile," she amended, "but he was in no condition for visitors for awhile. He's doing better now, though - the first thing he asked when he could speak was where you were. We told him you were right here at the hospital, and that you'd probably saved his life."

The nurse apparently was misinterpreting the tears in Trucy's eyes, because she added again, "You really did, you know."

She also might have ruined everything. She knew that, and he probably knew it too. But at least this way there was a chance she wouldn't lose Daddy - if he'd died on that bathroom floor...

The nurse asked then if she wanted to see him? He wanted to see her, but he was still very weak, and kind of disoriented, and it was understandable if it would upset her to see him like that. Trucy didn't care about that one bit - what made her hesitate was the realization that she was really, really mad at him for putting her in this position, scaring her half to death and forcing her to make bad decisions... The sheet twisted in her clenched hand. She was afraid if she saw him, she was going to scream at him and hit him.

But she nodded. If she did, he couldn't say he didn't deserve it. The nurse, seeing her hesitation, asked if she was sure, and she nodded again, letting go of the sheet and getting up. She could hardly believe it was light out when she caught a glimpse of the big glass doors on their way through the halls - it felt like it had been night for a really long time already, but morning couldn't be there yet. Actually, it kind of felt like morning might never come.

He already looked like someone had beaten him up, once she got to his room. They'd cleaned him up and put him in a clean hospital gown too, with clean sheets, and everything around him looking so nice just made it more obvious how awful he looked. He tried to smile anyway, but it came out like more of a grimace, and Trucy lost any desire to hurt him _more_. "Hey... Truce."

Even his voice sounded hurt, all hoarse and exhausted, and the look on his face looked like defeat. But then he opened his arms, shakily, and what could she do except hug him?

"I'm so, so sorry," he whispered into her hair. "So sorry, Trucy. I didn't mean to put you through this."

"I know that," she murmured, not quite as angrily as she intended. "Don't talk, okay? Just rest and get better."

His lips pressed against her cheek; they smelled like mint, someone must have given him mouthwash. "You rest too, sweetie. Not fair for you to lose sleep over this..."

No, it wasn't, but she could argue with him later. "Hey, I told you to rest first. Stop talking."

A hoarse laugh. "Yes, ma'am."

Trucy turned her head to see if the nurse was still listening in - if she or Daddy said anything about his drinking being an ongoing problem, the nurse might hear. But she'd gone, giving them privacy, so Trucy just crawled into the bed next to Daddy, listening to his breathing quiet and even out as he fell asleep with an arm and its tubes cradling her head.

\---

Trucy skipped school that day, and just stayed at the hospital while the doctors kept Daddy 'under observation' for a little longer. He was really quiet, even after he'd slept more - ashamed, Trucy thought. When they decided to release him, she took the bus home to get him some clean clothes to wear, and he was done with the paperwork by the time she got back. He didn't say a word all the way home, just sat there with his head down.

When they got back to the office, the first thing he did was head for the bathroom, which wasn't really a surprise, since they'd been sitting around at the hospital, and then there was the bus ride. But he was in there for a really long time, and finally Trucy knocked. "Daddy? Are you okay?" She didn't get an answer, so she pushed the door open to peek in.

Daddy _was_ okay, just kneeling on the floor with spray cleaner and a rag - right, he'd kind of made a mess before she found him, and she hadn't been home to clean it up. But he raised his head, maybe enough to look at her sideways, and slumped down with an arm on the toilet seat, resting his head on it like he was just too tired to keep it up. "Are you feeling sick again?" Trucy asked, venturing in to rub his back.

He shook his head. "Honey... I'm _so_ sorry," he mumbled. "I can't believe I was so stupid..."

She wanted to argue with that, but she couldn't. "At least you've learned something... right?" She tried to sound more optimistic. "And you'll stop drinking now, right?"

"I wish I could say yes," he mumbled against his arm. "But I can't. All of this, and as soon as I'm out, I just want..." The hand that wasn't under him waved dismissively. "I don't even know when it got this way..."

Trucy didn't remember either. It seemed like it had been going on forever. "But if it changed, it can change back," she told him. "You just have to stop drinking."

"I can't," he moaned. "I can't do it. I'm not... you have _no idea_ how much I want a drink right now."

"Well, you're not getting one," Trucy told him, hands on her hips and feeling rather satisfied. "I won't let you."

"I know, honey, thanks..." He looked up at her then, and his eyes were even redder and glassier than they had been when they left the hospital. "But you can't be with me all the time, and... I'm scared," he admitted. "I'm scared that as soon as you go back to school-"

"Then I won't go to school."

"You _have_ to go to school," he told her firmly. "Trucy, you know why they didn't just take you away from me after this? Not just because you hid all the bottles and lied to them - they know that happens, and they ran tests, they could tell that my drinking too much wasn't an isolated incident. But they're not stepping in, because you're healthy and have good school attendance and don't show any obvious signs of abuse or neglect. Because it doesn't look like I'm messing up your life. They gave me a warning, but one instance of documented heavy drinking isn't enough evidence for the authorities to take a child away from a parent. And... I know there's more than that, I know I'm being an awful dad. Oh, _god_ , Trucy, I hate the fact you saw me like that, I _hate_ that you were the one who had to take care of me..."

His tone had gone from firm to disgusted, and he was shaking. Trucy understood - he didn't want to be separated from her any more than she wanted to be separated from him, and he knew how close he'd come. And he'd know things like that, since he used to be a lawyer... so she really hadn't been worrying for nothing.

Now _she_ was getting scared too. "It's okay, I don't mind taking care of you, if it means I get to keep you as my daddy - I just..." Maybe he wasn't a good parent. Trucy didn't know. He seemed a lot better than her old daddy, in a lot of ways, even if he didn't know how to do magic. And _this_ daddy wanted to be with her, instead of disappearing and leaving her behind, and that might have been the most important part. "Daddy?" she began nervously, her voice getting smaller. "Maybe we could... get you help? I mean... it's a kind of sickness, isn't it? So if we could just get you help before it gets any worse...?"

He shook his head. "Truce... doctors and therapy and so on... they cost a lot of money. And insurance only goes so far, and I know that emergency room trip and everything after it more than used up my coverage - I'll be paying what's left over for a long time. And..." He shook his head again, rubbed his eyes, and tried to pull himself together. "...Sorry, honey. I've dumped too much on you already. I'm just..."

Scared, guilty, humiliated, completely lacking any sort of hope at all. Trucy knew that. But even if she felt bad for him, they had to do what they had to do. And it was a good thing she knew what they had to do, because he didn't seem to know. "...Daddy, just hold on, okay?" she told him. "Just _don't drink_ anymore, for as long as you can, and... keep going to work, and I'll keep doing my shows, and we'll make the money to get you help. And then everything can be okay, and we'll... I guess we'll live happily ever after," she finished, giving him a grin she wanted very badly to feel. "Because that's how it works when the worst is over. Don't you think?"

They'd been together long enough, and known each other well enough, that she knew he wasn't fooled by the grin. But it was all right, because instead of calling her on it, he nodded. "I'll try, hon. I really will." And she knew he would.

And sure enough, he did. He was miserable and tense and frustrated enough that she found him punching the cushions on the couch one afternoon, but it was a whole week before he came home from work and barely made it to the couch before passing out. He was trying.

But it wasn't good enough, and the next day he said so. Actually, it was more like he growled it than he said it, since he was taking out his frustrations on the pillows again. Trucy suggested biting it, and he tried that while she was on her way out the door for school, but she came home to find him drunk again. He didn't sober up for two days, and the fact that he apologized afterwards for giving up didn't make up for those two days he hadn't been paid.

They were never going to pay the bills at this rate, let alone make enough to get Daddy help. Trucy's savings were gone, as Daddy's had been for a while. She was using her income for food and taxi fares and whatever was left went to rent, and anything Daddy made was going straight to the hospital. As hard as he was trying to shape up, he just kept messing up again, and Trucy knew that the longer he struggled, the more he hated himself, and the more he wanted to give up.

That was the really awful part. But almost as bad was the realization that Daddy wasn't going to be able to _afford_ help until he'd already _gotten_ help.

\---

She couldn't quit school, like he said. That would ruin everything. Which meant working more after school, maybe, except that there were laws limiting the hours she was allowed to work at her age.

Which meant that in order to get Daddy help, she'd have to break the law in some way anyway. Now that she was a little older, she knew that some of Uncle Valant's tricks weren't _just_ magic tricks... but although she thought that she could emulate them, she'd be in really big trouble if she messed up at 'making money appear'. There were kids at school, in the lunchrooms, who bragged about how they made really easy money selling drugs when they needed some cash, but Trucy hated that idea. Drugs were like alcohol, weren't they? People used them, and then they got addicted, and then they'd wind up like Daddy - and she didn't want to do that to anyone.

Trucy asked the lady who worked a couple hours after her on Saturday nights if she had any more tricks for making money fast, since her advice about wearing a shorter skirt seemed to help. And after all, Linda only worked one night a week, but she was always wearing really fancy jewelry, so she had to know a good way to make money... But she hesitated, and told Trucy she didn't know any good way for a girl her age.

After thinking about that for awhile, Trucy thought she got it. It wasn't like she hadn't seen movies and TV shows, or heard the jokes and bullying from the kids at school. She knew why some of the guys yelled "Hey, baby, how much?" when a girl showed off a lot of skin.

...The idea was kind of scary. She'd never had sex before, and wasn't sure she was really ready... and there were so many bad things that could happen, like diseases or pregnancy - but Daddy had taught her about them, and how to reduce the risk. And... it was supposed to feel good, right? Except for hurting the first time? So maybe it was just as well that she would get something out of it the first few times, if it didn't feel so good.

But she really didn't know much about how it worked as a _job_ \- how much it actually would pay, if there were secrets to getting customers, did they need contracts, that sort of thing - so after her show one Friday night, she left Daddy passed out on the couch and went to do some research.

They didn't exactly live in a really nice part of town, so Trucy didn't have to walk too far before she spotted three promising-looking women on an intersection near the park. Two were really curvy, one was practically a skeleton, and none of them was wearing much more than the absolute least they could get away with wearing. There was a car pulled up at the curb, and one of the curvy women was leaning over talking to someone, and then she got in the car.

It seemed pretty obvious, but Trucy didn't want to make any assumptions, so after the car had pulled away, she carefully approached the two remaining women. "Excuse me," she began, and they turned to look at her in surprise. "Could I ask you some questions?"

They just stared at her for a second, and Trucy tried not to stare at their massive amounts of eye makeup. "What, do you want directions?" the curvy one asked.

"Er, no," Trucy said sheepishly. "I was wondering - are you two prostitutes?"

The two exchanged glances. "No, we're nuns." The skinny one coughed, as laughing had made her choke on the cigarette she was smoking.

Trucy laughed too. "That's pretty funny! Okay, so that was kind of a dumb question," she agreed, "but I just wanted to make sure, you know?"

"What do you want?" the curvy one asked again. "I mean, I doubt you're looking to buy."

"Uh, no - I'm not really into that kind of thing," Trucy admitted, then turned thoughtful. "...Do other women really try to buy you?" she asked. "I mean, is that part of the job?"

"Kid," the skinny one interrupted. "What do you want?"

"I just want to know what it's like, being a prostitute," Trucy replied. "I've never known anyone in the business, so I don't really have anyone to ask. Like, say, how much can you make around here?"

The curvy one rolled her eyes. "Five bucks an hour."

The skinny one snorted, and Trucy started to get annoyed. "I'm serious - I want to know if it's really worth my time if I'm going to give it a try."

"You don't want to do that, kiddo," the skinny one told her, growing serious again. "You really don't."

"But I need money, fast," Trucy explained. "And I can't get a full time job, bec-"

Though she cut herself off there, it wasn't fast enough. "How old are you, anyway?"

"...Eighteen," Trucy lied.

"Right, and I'm six," the curvy woman countered. "Honey, get off our block. Go home, have a little tea party or something."

"I promise, I won't try to compete with you," Trucy told her earnestly. "I just wanted to know a little more about the business - and then I'll go somewhere else, okay? I just want some information from people in the know. Or if you don't want to talk to me, is there, I dunno, a pimp you could refer me to or something?"

"You have got to be kidding..."

She was so busy trying to get answers out of the two women, and they were apparently so distracted by her, that none of them realized until it pulled up right behind them that there had been a motorcycle approaching. It was really shiny, with a purple sheen, Trucy thought, and the person riding it was dressed all in black leather. He must have a lot of money - the kind of money that meant he could afford to pay for sex - which was apparently what the two women thought too, because as soon as they noticed the motorcycle, they turned away from her and focused all their attention on its rider, whose voice was muffled in the helmet he wore. "Good evening, ladies... Nice night for a walk, isn't it?"

"Rather have a ride," the curvy one purred. "What do you think, sugar?"

Trucy just stood back. Whoever this guy was, he sounded pretty hot, and maybe she wouldn't mind having sex for money with a guy who had a voice like that - but she'd told them she wouldn't compete with them, and the last thing she wanted was to get on the bad side of established professionals before she had her foot in the door. She'd never get a break that way.

"Ah... that would be a problem, then," the masked rider told them, with a casual toss of his head. "My bike, she only seats two. But then again, I have a friend who could bring a car - he'd have room for all of us."

"Is your friend also into black leather?" asked the skinny one, drawing a finger along the rider's arm where it rested on the handlebars.

"No, that's a different friend," the rider replied. "Actually... _this_ friend likes blue, ja?"

The two women visibly tensed. Before they could do anything more, a police car had pulled around the corner, its lights off. The rider had an open wallet in his hand, displaying a police badge. The skinny woman swore, the curvy one started yelling at the rider, but he just pulled out a pair of handcuffs from a pocket in his jacket and started to fasten them around her wrists.

The officer getting out of the car had another pair, but he didn't need them - the skinny woman was resigned to her arrest and just let him steer her towards the car. Trucy had frozen, watching. She didn't know if running would make it better or worse. Daddy would _kill_ her if she got arrested, especially for this - no, he wouldn't do a thing because if she went to jail, there would be no one to take care of him and he was totally hopeless without her - maybe she really should run, but if she did, couldn't she be charged with resisting arrest or something, and then it would be even longer before she got to go home and help Daddy - if she was ever allowed to go back to him at all, after they picked her up for _prostitution_ and went to notify him and found him dead drunk again...

As the officer with the motorcycle got the two women into the back seat of the car, the one who'd been driving turned to her and hesitated, still holding the handcuffs. "...Sir, this one doesn't look like, well..."

The motorcyclist looked up, closing the door of the police car and peering over the trunk at Trucy. Funny - she saw his shoulder twitch, like he was surprised. Or maybe it was unrelated, because then he lifted his arms to take off the helmet. It was dark, she couldn't make out much about the man except for blond hair, falling around his shoulders in a way that _looked_ messy, but in a way that made it obvious it wasn't just helmet-hair - it was supposed to do that.

"I guess we should arrest her too?" the other officer asked.

The blond man shook his head, and there was the bright glint of something really shiny under his hair. "You've got it all wrong, Harry - the fraulein's been working undercover to help me expose these women."

The officer didn't quite seem to believe him. "... _She's_ a plant?"

"She is." The blond man tugged at a lock of his hair idly, a gesture that would have given away his lie a mile away to anyone who knew even half as much about reading people as Trucy did. "I know she doesn't look like one - but that's the genius of the plan, ja?"

Trucy had no idea why he was doing this, but she caught on quickly. "That's right, sir! Glad to be of some help," she told him with a bright smile.

"Take those two back to the station and start the paperwork," the blond man said, stepping away from the car and... was he putting on sunglasses? In the middle of the night? "I'll get Fraulein Wright's statement here, get her to where she needs to go, and then be back to tie it all up."

Trucy froze again as the officer saluted. "Yes, sir! I'll be waiting."

As the car pulled away, the blond man gestured down the block. "Come with me."

There was a bus stop there, and Trucy followed as he started walking the motorcycle towards it. "...Uhm, thanks a lot," she began awkwardly. "But, uh, I have to ask... how do you know my name?"

"Actually, I don't," the man replied. "Or rather, I'm not sure. It's something like... Tracy?"

"Close - it's Trucy," she corrected him. "But you got my last name. ...Do I know you?"

He shook his head, and Trucy saw that glint again, at his ear. "I don't believe we've ever been introduced. But I remember a case, many years ago... and a disbarred lawyer who adopted his last client's little daughter, already a magician in her own right. The cape is unmistakable, though I see you've changed colors."

Trucy let herself smile a little. She still didn't know what had just happened, but this guy was a police officer or detective or something, and he didn't seem to have anything bad in mind. "Yeah - my new daddy wears a lot of blue... and my mommy wore blue too, so I decided to switch. ...Uhm, not that I object or anything, but... why didn't you arrest me?"

"Off the record," the man said, settling his motorcycle on its kickstand at the curb and heading for the bench, " _should_ I have arrested you for solicitation?"

Trucy thought about it for a second. "...Well, no..." She _had_ only been trying to get information.

"Good." He sat, and Trucy sat beside him, hands clasped together awkwardly in her lap, staring at the sidewalk. "Then we'll begin at the beginning. _On_ the record - did those women clearly state their, ah, profession in your presence?"

"You mean did they say they were prostitutes?" Trucy shook her head. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?"

"I asked if they were," Trucy explained. "They said they were nuns, and laughed."

"Hmm, so no direct admission of guilt," the man muttered. "Unfortunate."

"Well, I asked some more questions," Trucy added. The man had helped her out, and she kind of wanted to help him out now too. "And they said... uh... well, they asked if I was looking to buy - and I wasn't!" she added quickly. "And they said something about getting off 'their block'..."

"Ah - given their response to my arrival, I think that's enough evidence, especially as they're repeat offenders. Thank you, fraulein." There was a click, and she looked over to realize he had a little tape recorder, which he was slipping back into a pocket. "Now, _off_ the record again - why are you out at this hour, socializing with women of questionable character?"

Trucy's heart sank. She wasn't sure she should answer.

"I doubt your father would approve," the man added after a moment. "...Would he?"

"No," she agreed quietly. "He definitely wouldn't." But how else was she going to make the kind of money he needed? ...But she hadn't even gotten a clear picture of what to do before she got 'busted', let alone actually started - and if she'd nearly been arrested so easily, how was she ever going to make any money before _really_ getting arrested and ruining everything...?

She leaned forward, resting her head in her hands, hopeless and humiliated - and it was the unexpected feel of a gloved hand resting lightly on her back that broke her. There was no way out, she knew it. And so, tears welling up in her eyes, she told him everything.

Everything she'd been holding inside for all these years, everything she didn't dare even hint at to anyone at work or school because she was so afraid they would take her away from her Daddy, and he'd be helpless and alone. All the promises he made, and really tried to keep but couldn't; all the anger she couldn't hold onto because he was always, _always_ sorry; her slipping grades and the past due rent. Once she started talking, she couldn't stop, and once she started crying, she couldn't stop that either.

"And..." There was a part that she'd never dared admit, even to herself, but she really couldn't stop now. "...I think it's my fault. Because I gave him that piece of paper during that trial... I didn't know what it meant, or that that's what caused all this trouble, until years later. But I gave it to him, and... and I ruined his life and messed him up like this, and I don't know why he was so nice to me after I did something so awful..."

" _You_ gave him that notebook page?"

Trucy sniffed. "Yeah..."

"Why?"

"Because someone told me to give it to him."

"Who was it?"

She was so distraught herself that it wasn't until just then that she realized the man was suddenly tensed up too. "...I don't know, someone I met in the hall," she admitted, wiping her eyes. "I don't remember what he looked like - it was a long time ago. But I remember he smiled when he gave me that paper, a really bright smile... so I thought it was good news." Having pulled herself together a little, she managed to look up at the man. He seemed... really worried. "...What is it?"

He was lost in thought, absently twisting one of the rings he wore, but after a moment he shook himself and answered. "It doesn't matter - it was years ago... And do you know what?" he added, coming back to himself enough to give her a little smile. "I don't think your father would want you to beat yourself up over it for the same reason. What's done is done, fraulein - he must have thought so if he didn't even hold a grudge over it for a month."

"Yeah..." She sighed. "He never held it against me. But he's a lot better at holding a grudge against himself." The reminder made her throat tight, and she closed her eyes, trying not to start crying again. She'd only just stopped. "I guess I am too..."

She opened her eyes again when she heard another funny sound. The man had a tiny memo pad now, and a pen, and was jotting something down. "Here," he said, finishing and tearing the top sheet off. "Take your father to this address tomorrow - it's a rehab clinic. One of the best, from what I've heard. Several celebrity clients have had good luck there."

"Oh..." She deflated slightly, though she accepted the slip of paper. "Thanks, but there's no way we can afford it. We're probably going to have our electricity turned off in a couple weeks, even - we can't even pay the bills, let alone get him help..."

"I think you'll find the price quite reasonable."

Trucy doubted that very much, especially if they had celebrity clients, but she slipped the paper into a hidden pocket anyway. "Well, we'll see. ...Thanks, either way."

"Now that that's taken care of - it's late, fraulein. Where can I take you?"

Maybe it was stupid of her to get scared _now_. She must have really needed to vent about everything if it had only just occurred to her. "Uhmm... You're not going to try to take me away from Daddy, are you? I heard... sometimes when parents aren't doing too good, the police take their kids away..."

"Do you promise to take him to that clinic tomorrow?"

Even though she knew it wasn't going to do any good, she nodded. "I will. I promise."

The man smiled, slipping the sunglasses up on his head. "Then I won't do anything to take you away from your father. ...At least, not until you're a little older," he added with a wink.

...She somehow hadn't noticed before, but he was really, really pretty. She couldn't stop herself from blushing, or from smiling back in spite of herself.

He had a spare helmet on the back of his motorcycle, and Trucy got to hug his waist all the way home. She almost wished she'd walked further, so they'd have a longer ride together, but if she hadn't stopped where she did, would they ever have crossed paths?

"Thanks for the ride," she said, reluctantly removing the helmet and handing it back to him in front of the office building. "And for the referral. ...And for listening. Sorry I kept you for so long, I know you're on the job," she added sheepishly. "But I really appreciate it."

"It's no trouble," he assured her. "Helping people in trouble _is_ my job. And as for those other ladies, Harry knows what to do with them."

"Hee, I guess." She was feeling _so_ much better about everything now, but then she turned and looked up at the building. Their office was around the side, so she couldn't see if the lights were on... but either way, she was going to go up there and Daddy was going to be drunk, and... nothing had really changed, had it?

Maybe he noticed that her good mood was disappearing, because he didn't take off right away. In fact, after a second, he reached up and took off his own helmet, setting it aside as he reached up again. "...You were worried about the bills, ja?" he asked, fiddling with something at his ear. "Maybe this will give you a little short term help..." When he held out his hand, Trucy saw he was holding an absolutely _enormous_ diamond stud earring.

She just stared at it for a second. "Oh, no. I really couldn't."

"Take it," he urged her, and gave her another broad grin. "I've got another just like it at home - and I only wear one at a time."

Then why buy a pair, she wondered? But after debating it for a minute, she reached out to accept it. "...Thank you. Really, I can't thank you enough," she began, and she could feel that she was going to cry if she kept on going, so she shut her mouth right there.

"Don't worry - let's just say your daddy's been dealt a bad hand. There's no reason you should have to worry about it. Good night, Fraulein Trucy."

"Night..." In her hesitation, he started the motorcycle's engine again, and Trucy realized something all of a sudden. "Wait - I don't even know your..."

But he was gone, roaring down the empty streets and leaving her behind, with a memo in her pocket and a sparkly earring in her hand.

...So much for being the princess in a fairy tale. At the moment, she felt a little more like Prince Charming, left holding the glass slipper.


	6. Chapter 6

Trucy could hardly sleep at all that night, after what she'd done. She could have made a big mistake, she could have messed everything up even worse than it was already messed up - or was her big mistake talking to that strange man? She _would_ take Daddy to that clinic, because he'd tried to help her and she'd made a promise, but she knew they couldn't afford it. So would that man come back and check, and see if Daddy had gotten help?

The diamond earring sat on her nightstand, glittering in the stray light from streetlamps outside, and she wondered how much money she could sell it for, and if that would be enough to at least get Daddy started.

Eventually the sun started to come up, and it was no big surprise that Daddy was unwilling to get up and get moving. She kept poking him anyway, until he finally did sit up, and ignored his protests to tell him that they had to go somewhere, so he'd better take a shower and get dressed. He took _forever_ , but she used the time to make some breakfast. He claimed he didn't want any, but she knew better. Once he'd had a glass of water and some aspirin and some toast, he decided he could have another piece.

"Sorry about last night," he muttered, head bowed in shame. "I'm trying, Trucy. I just..."

She just nodded. She'd heard it all before, but today, despite knowing they couldn't really afford to do what she was about to try... today she felt hopeful. "It's okay - just go ahead and finish eating, we have somewhere to go today."

He scratched his head, puzzled. "Sorry I don't remember... where are we supposed to go?"

"You don't remember," she informed him with a grin, "because it's a surprise."

"...I don't really deserve a surprise, honey."

She shook her head. "You deserve this one."

At first, she tried blindfolding him, so he wouldn't see where they were going until they got there. But after they'd been on the first bus a little while, he said not being able to see where he was going was making him kind of nauseous, so Trucy took the blindfold off. It turned out that he probably wouldn't have a clue where they were going anyway, because the address Trucy had been given was in a pretty fancy part of town, right near the coast. Daddy probably didn't come here much. Of course, that also meant it was even less likely that they could afford it.

When they actually got there, and found themselves looking at something that looked more like a resort than a clinic, Trucy's heart sank further. Sure, maybe the clinic seemed affordable to a guy who could afford to buy a pair of gigantic diamond earrings and only wear one, but not so much for them. Daddy looked depressed too, and tried to tell her he couldn't afford it, and he was sorry. She dragged him inside anyway, right up to the front desk. She at least had to keep her promise.

She took a deep breath, making herself smile as the receptionist looked up. "Hi! I'm Trucy Wright - my daddy and I are wondering if he could get help here."

The receptionist peered at the two of them. "...What kind of help?"

Daddy looked like he wanted to sink into the floor, but Trucy refused to waver. "He's been drinking too much, and he can't stop on his own. So someone referred us here."

"Honey-" Daddy began, but Trucy just kicked him in the ankle and he got the message, falling silent.

The receptionist was already going over some papers on the desk. "The last name's Wright, you said?"

"Yup!"

Trucy was just as startled as her daddy when the receptionist nodded and gave them a smile, getting to her feet. "Phoenix Wright, yes? You're here a little early, but I believe there's a counselor available right now - I'll let her know, and be back for you in just a second."

Trucy tried not to let her surprise show, and acted as if this was exactly what she had expected. "Great! Thanks."

There were some seats off to the side of the... waiting room? Trucy had never been in a waiting room like this before, all shiny and clean with a sunroof and glass tables and a fountain bubbling up in the middle. It looked more like a lobby from some of the hotels she'd stayed in with her old daddy and Uncle Valant. Either way, there were seats off to the sides, and she steered Daddy towards one of them.

"Trucy," he began, once she'd made him sit down. "I appreciate that you went to all this trouble, but we can't afford this. Even a single counseling session is probably more than we can handle. If we cancel now and leave, we probably won't have to pay the full amount."

But she shook her head. "Since you're already here, let's just do it, okay?" she suggested. "We're already in trouble, so if we owe a little more money, but you get some help? It'll be worth it."

He didn't look as if he agreed, but he couldn't very well argue, so he gave up, just resting his head in his hands. "...Thanks," he murmured.

"No problem," she replied automatically. Although she kind of wondered, from what the receptionist had said, if this was standard procedure for someone just walking in? Or, since she'd found Daddy's name on a list, had that man she'd met last night just gone ahead and arranged an appointment? Either way, maybe that earring would help. And if Daddy got help, then she _knew_ she could manage the rest.

When the receptionist returned, it was with a woman in a white jacket and big gold earrings, who shook their hands and introduced herself, then took Daddy off to a room where they could talk. Trucy waited, swinging her heels back against the leather furniture (until she realized that that wasn't a good idea, what with it being leather furniture), reading magazines (which were actually current! Definitely the best waiting room she'd ever seen), and watching the fountain, which even had _goldfish_ swimming around in it.

And after a long time, Daddy came back with the counselor. He'd been crying again, he looked just as exhausted as he had when she'd prodded him awake that morning, but he still had enough life in him to give her a suspicious stare. "Trucy? What did you do?"

Trucy frowned curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't try one of your Uncle Valant's tricks, like making money disappear from a bank vault or something... did you?"

She blinked. "No. Why?"

"My credit's not good, I can't imagine you have your own line of credit or that it would be any better if you did - and Ms. Felden tells me I've somehow already been approved for inpatient therapy?"

Trucy's mouth opened slowly. "...I didn't do it. All I did was bring you here..."

"Why here?"

She hadn't shown Daddy the note, or told him anything about the last night. "Uhm... because someone told me it was a good place?"

"Who?"

She wasn't going to tell him everything, of course, but she could tell him that she'd met a strange man who worked for the police, with a motorcycle and blond hair and an earring that he gave her. She left out the part about him being really amazingly hot; that wasn't really something Daddy needed to know.

Daddy asked to see the note, and looked it over, but he didn't recognize the handwriting. Finally he got up and asked the receptionist. "Someone's already offered to pay?" She nodded. "Who was it?" he asked.

"He wanted his identity to remain confidential," the receptionist replied. "And we take confidentiality seriously here."

Daddy tried to argue the point more - he didn't want to spend some stranger's money, and this could even be some sort of plot against him, blackmail or extortion - but they weren't going to budge, and Ms. Felden kept telling him that it was a good opportunity if he was willing to take it, and that perhaps he needed to stop worrying about the future and take care of the day at hand.

Though his arguments had grown more heated as they continued, Trucy knew why, and she reached out to take his shaking hand when Ms. Felden asked again - did he want the help he was being offered? Daddy squeezed so hard that Trucy's hand hurt, but finally he nodded. Maybe he didn't even _want_ it, he admitted, and his eyes got watery again, but he knew he _needed_ it.

Trucy just hugged him and hugged him, and he hugged her back, and when they finally let go, Ms. Felden offered to show them around.

\---

She rode the bus home by herself that afternoon. Daddy was going to be staying at the clinic for awhile, and although he admitted she was more than capable of taking care of herself - she kind of had to be by this time - he couldn't really leave her all alone in the office, so he'd made a couple of phone calls before she took off.

The office seemed really empty, knowing Daddy wasn't going to be home for awhile... but Trucy decided to take advantage of it to clean the whole place out, to get rid of all the bottles, empty or full. From now on, she wasn't going to let another one in.

The place was also sort of a mess, and she was standing there with hands on her hips, wondering if she really had the energy to do something about that today, when there was a knock on the door. It was Uncle Larry, who she hadn't seen in years, and while Trucy was telling him all about her magic show, there was another knock, and it was Maya, and then Uncle Larry suggested they should all go get some burgers.

The office didn't get cleaned up that night - they were having too much fun. Same thing the next day, and the next day they went and visited Daddy at the clinic. He was kind of exhausted, but he smiled when he saw them all and said he wasn't really okay, but he was working on it. By the time they'd gotten back to the office, it was too late to clean it up that night either.

Maya's cousin Pearl came over too, and she tried to get everyone to help clean the place up, but Uncle Larry kept distracting everyone, and then Maya would find old pictures or papers or something and everyone would start talking about when Daddy was a lawyer. That was the Daddy Trucy remembered, from the times when he would stop drinking, and she was glad to hear the old stories. Maybe he'd be like that again when he came home.

Despite Pearl's admonishments, the office never did actually get cleaned up.

\---

Daddy never really wanted to do much of anything when she visited him. He was tired, and quiet, and kind of unhappy in a vague sort of way. But he said it was because he was working instead of hiding. He was confronting things he'd been trying to avoid. It wasn't fun, he said, but work never was. Trucy disagreed - she loved her job at the Wonder Bar - but she could understand, and she was glad that he was working.

He wound up staying at the clinic a little longer than intended, but he was honest with her about that too. He said they wanted to try putting him on some medication - there were things going on that his drinking had been covering up for, and maybe it would be easier for him to stop drinking if they dealt with those things. But that meant they wanted to spend another week to observe him and see if it was working before they told him to go back to living his life.

And he was scared of that, he said. The idea of freedom to live his own life the way he wanted to live it, after being kept safe in the clinic, with people all around him to make sure he couldn't mess up - it scared him. But he didn't say it like he was scared. He said it like... Trucy thought it was like when he was facing another poker expert at work. He knew it might not be easy, but he'd do his best.

Whatever medication they gave him, it seemed to be having an effect, Trucy thought, as she and Maya and Larry and sometimes Pearl visited over the next week. He seemed to have more energy, and he was quicker to laugh. And he didn't seem so worried about going home, once the day came.

Maya stayed on a little longer, just to keep Daddy company while Trucy was at work or school, because he wasn't going back to work right away. He wanted to, but he and his therapist had agreed that he needed time to adjust to life without drinking, since he'd been drinking for so long. He'd ease into it. But he seemed to be doing okay after a couple days, and he was at least talking to his therapist on the phone every day, if not actually visiting, so eventually Maya went back to Kurain, with lots of hugs and admonitions to come visit her and Pearly sometime soon, and then it was just Trucy and Daddy, and Daddy had to go back to work.

She'd never have even known that he messed up, if he hadn't said so the next morning. She'd heard him come in too late, waking her up by stumbling over something or maybe over nothing at all, but that was normal by now, and she didn't stop to think that it wasn't supposed to be before she fell asleep again.

But when she got up in the morning, she found him already on the phone, talking in low, serious tones.

"I... have some ideas. ...Yeah, ten is fine, I'd like to talk about it. I don't know if I was..." He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry, I'm trying. And hey - I'm not pretending it didn't happen, at least. ...Yeah. Thanks. ...Heh, I'm okay. I'll see you in a few hours. Thanks."

He clicked the phone off, and at first Trucy wasn't sure what he was talking about. He wasn't sprawled all over the couch, just sitting there, and he didn't look miserable. A little frustrated, maybe, but that was all. And then he looked up to her, and though his eyes were bloodshot and he looked a little green, he just motioned for her to come sit with him, and she did.

"Trucy, I'm going to be honest with you," he started. "I drank last night, and I drank a little too much. I messed up." Seeing her face fall, he reached out and took her hand. "I know, I was stupid. Basically, Kris... Mr. Gavin came by during my shift, and things with Mr. Gavin are... well, it's complicated," he admitted with a sigh. "I was frustrated, and I fell back into old habits. But Trucy," he continued, and she looked up at the serious tone of his voice. "I'm not telling you this to make excuses. I'm telling you that I know where I messed up, and I'm not going to let myself make that mistake again."

She'd heard him say it so many times before - and of course he meant it, just like always - that it shouldn't have had any effect on her at all. Except... before, he always _had_ been making excuses. He knew they weren't good enough, but they were still excuses. But the tone of his voice this time said something else. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself, he didn't hate himself.

"I was just talking to my therapist," he told her. "I'm going to go see her today, and we're going to talk about what I did, and why, and other ways I can deal with that kind of frustration. And that's what I'm going to do from now on. I'm going to find better solutions, and use them."

He was so _determined_. After thinking about it for a second, and realizing that yes, he was absolutely serious, Trucy could let the grin she was feeling actually reach her mouth. "Good for you, Daddy! What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing," he said immediately. "This is my problem, not yours - honey, I've put enough of this on you already, and I'm sorry."

"What if I want to help?" He was working so hard, and it seemed like he was actually seeing results, since he hadn't gone right back to moping after his failure. If there was anything she could do...

"You can't. This is something I can't lean on anyone else to do," he explained. "I need to do it myself. You just take care of the things you're supposed to be taking care of, like your schoolwork." Which reminded him, and he looked at the clock. "We can talk more after school, actually - you need to be getting ready right now."

Despite his new attitude, Trucy wasn't entirely sure. "...Well, will you be okay without me?"

He nodded. "I'm all right."

And he actually _did_ seem all right. Definitely not like he was on the verge of going out and buying a big box of wine and sitting around all day punishing himself. So Trucy decided to trust him, and went to get dressed.

When she got home, there was no scent of alcohol, and Daddy was sitting... well, not straight, exactly, because he kind of slouched, but he didn't look like he was about to fall over. And he smiled when he looked up at Trucy, and asked how school went.

Which wasn't nearly as interesting to her as finding out how his day had been, but she told him, and they sat together, and even though they didn't talk about what he'd been doing all day in the end, it was all right. Because she knew what he _hadn't_ been doing all day.

\---

Weeks passed. Daddy wasn't going to so many appointments any more, but that was obviously because he was doing better. He hadn't slipped up again since that first time that he went back to work, and though sometimes Trucy could tell that he wanted to, he would step out and make a phone call instead. And he really was just making a phone call - it wasn't a cover! Trucy followed him the first couple of times, just in case, and all he did was sit somewhere quiet and talk to whoever he was calling about how he was feeling. Maybe that wasn't any of her business, but he was her daddy, and she worried about him.

She was worried about the bills, too... but maybe that was her own fault. Because she couldn't bring herself to sell that earring.

Whoever that man had been, he'd helped Daddy out so much, more than she'd expected. And she could skip meals, she could perform at kids' parties for a little extra cash. Just enough to scrape by until Daddy was pulling in a regular income again. She didn't have to sell that earring.

Because it was worth the extra effort to let her daddy relax and have time to recover, and to see him content again, and not drinking. She worked and she budgeted and she lost more weight than she probably should have, but every night she looked at the earring, sparkling on her nightstand, and thought about just how much that man had given them.

...Maybe someday she'd see him again, and instead of just taking and taking and taking, she could give back at least a little bit.

\---

She hardly recognized her daddy anymore these days. He'd changed so much, entirely for the better. Well, okay, so she could have recognized him anywhere with that hat she'd given him, with that pin he'd gotten from a friend of his attached to the front. No one else would wear that hat.

And most of the time he still had a bottle in his hand. Just now it was a different kind of bottle. The first time, she'd gotten a little scared when she came home and saw him with a long-necked glass bottle sitting on front of him, but he'd seen the look on her face and explained. He'd developed so many habits while drinking, and trying to break all of them at once was hard. He didn't know what to do with his hands when they didn't have a bottle to hold onto; his therapist had suggested a harmless replacement. Still, he was so good at justifying himself that Trucy didn't believe him until he let her taste what was in the bottle.

She'd never had grape juice that good before. He smiled, and told her that's why it came in this kind of bottle - it was the really, really good kind. Much better than the stuff in the big plastic jugs. Though kind of expensive, too... But that was okay, because now that he was working again, he could afford it.

He could afford a lot of things. Their utility bills and rent were caught up, he was working on paying down the medical bills. And even while he was paying for his medication, and his own therapy sessions. Everything was going just fine.

But her heart sank when she woke up in the middle of the night one night to the ringing phone, and found that Daddy wasn't home to answer it. It sank further when she answered it herself, and it was from the police station, saying Daddy was in custody. He'd been so good, for _months_...

Maybe it was really weird for her to feel relieved when he told her he'd been arrested for murder. But she knew, at least, that he couldn't have done _that_ \- and Mr. Gavin was his friend, and a really amazing defense attorney. He'd be okay.

She started wondering if he'd been somehow drinking in jail, though, when he chose Mr. Gavin's apprentice to defend him instead of Mr. Gavin himself. But then, as she watched the trial and it became clear what he was doing...

Afterwards, when he'd been released from custody, he came and threw his arms around her, squeezing her tight for a long time. At first, she thought he was just relieved that his crazy plan had worked. But then, he looked her in the eye, seriously.

"...I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't helped get me straightened out before it came to this. I doubt I would have been able to figure out what happened myself if I'd been drinking... let alone prove it to the courts. Trucy... I really can't thank you enough."

She squeezed him back for even longer. She was _so glad_ he was sober.


	7. Chapter 7

She didn't make the connection at first. The guy that had just showed up on the crime scene was _really cool_ , and that was mostly what she noticed. If she hadn't noticed herself, the crowd of girls hovering around watching him might have clued her in. And okay, so he looked kind of familiar, but his hair was really similar to Mr. Gavin's. So maybe that was all.

...And he kept using words that sounded exotic and foreign, which was when she started to wonder. He was like some kind of prince...

Maybe... _her_ prince?

After Daddy explained to her and Apollo that Mr. Gavin had a younger brother, though, she started to wonder if she was _wrong_. She'd seen Mr. Gavin's brother once before, back when her other daddy was on trial, and her new daddy was defending him. Maybe he just looked familiar from then, and because he had Mr. Gavin's hair too. And he didn't act like he knew her, or ask after Daddy...

But she still had her suspicions. She was so excited at the idea that she might have found that same strange man again after all this time, her heart was pounding. She couldn't sleep that night, but lay awake, staring at the earring and wondering.

Well, she knew what she had to do. It was pretty obvious, after spending the whole day running around town with Polly, helping him out.

She'd just have to start her own investigation. And this investigation was going to be _really fun_.

\---

"Daddy?"

"What is it, sweetie?"

She gave him her sweetest look. "Could I have an advance on my allowance?"

He scratched his head, a little confused. ...Honey, you... don't exactly get an allowance, do you?"

She could see the wheels turning, though, so she just waited.

Sure enough, his bemused smile turned wistful. "You probably should. You definitely deserve it, after spending so much of your own money taking care of me."

"So...?" she prompted him.

"I don't know - I've never handed out allowance to a fifteen year old girl before," he said thoughtfully. "What seems fair to you?"

"I dunno either," she admitted. "Uh, five bucks a week?"

"Sure, I can handle that," he agreed, and started reaching for his wallet. "Let's see..."

"And about that advance..." she reminded him.

"Oh, right. Ten, then?"

"Actually..."

She'd done some shopping around online overnight, and had a pretty good idea what everything was likely to cost. When she told him the sum, his eyebrows rose under the edge of the hat. "...I'll have to write a check. Is that okay?"

"That's fine," she assured him.

As he got out his checkbook and pen to begin filling it out, he asked idly. "So what's this all about, anyway?"

"..." She couldn't really explain to him. Not until she was sure.

After a second, he shrugged. "You know what? It doesn't matter. I know you're a good girl," he finished, tearing the check out of the book and handing it to her. "You spend it however you want."

"Thanks, Daddy!" She leaned in to give him a kiss on the cheek - but then regarded him thoughtfully. "It's not going to bounce, is it?"

He shook his head. "Since you took care of the utilities last month, I've got plenty in there. And considering that your allowance is five dollars a week, with the amount I just wrote that check for... I won't have to pay you allowance until you're thirty."

Polly would have thought they were both nuts if he'd overheard this conversation. But Trucy just smiled at Daddy, and Daddy gave her a little secret smile back. They both understood.

\---

Since Daddy was out on a piano-playing job that evening, she had the office to herself for a while. Of course, she knew she might not be done with the investigating in one night - there were too many videos!

...Okay, and maybe she didn't really need _all_ of them for her investigation. Mostly she needed the videos from about a year ago. But if she was right (and she was pretty sure she was), buying his CDs and videos meant he'd get some money back from her, in a way. And some help in the sales rankings. Not that he needed it, from the look of things. But she was helping anyway.

Her first move was to pop in a live concert DVD from last summer and have a look. ...That _could_ have been her prince there on the stage. Prosecutor Gavin's hair was pulled back instead of styled with that windswept look, but it looked like it was at least the right length... She wished she'd been able to get a better look that night.

She got a much better look at him now, thanks to the close-ups and multiple camera angles and the amazing special effects. ...Prosecutor Gavin was so _cool_. It wasn't until he announced their final song for the night that she remembered what else she was supposed to be looking for - but the next close-up shot showed that he was wearing a little handcuff charm dangling from one ear. Not a diamond.

The next DVD she put in was a compilation of a bunch of their music videos, with some outtakes and interviews at the end. Already she recognized some of the songs they'd played at the concert, and she was getting familiar with the other band members. Too bad it hadn't been the other guitarist - she'd have been able to pick him out anywhere with hair like that. And the cinematography was really cool... but still, no diamond earring. Hoops, hearts, tiny studs, but no big diamonds.

However, one of the videos showed Prosecutor Gavin riding his motorcycle. And when he took off his helmet, his hair looked _just like_ the man she'd met that night.

He had his hair done the same way for one of the interviews after the videos. She was almost entirely sure, even with his mirrored shades on... and then he casually reached up, brushing the hair back from his cheek.

She paused it, went back a few frames. Looked down at the earring she held in her hand, and back up at the screen.

She grinned wildly, bouncing a little on the couch as she hugged Mr. Frog, who was there for moral support. And then she unpaused the video, and watched the rest of the interviews and outtakes.

Even though her investigation was complete, she popped in the next DVD once she was done, just to watch him some more. And when she finally went to bed, she left the first Gavinners album playing quietly in her CD player, letting him sing her to sleep.

Her prince. She'd found him.

...The question was, now what did she do about it?

\---

Her chance came only a few days later, when Daddy was going through the mail and hesitated. "...Hon? Did you use that advance on your allowance to buy tickets to the Magician's Grand Prix or something?"

She shook her head and came to see the envelope that had him puzzled. The return address was the ticket office at the Sunshine Coliseum. "No... But if someone sent us some by mistake, I'd be happy to make sure they didn't go to waste!"

"That's my girl - never wasteful," Daddy remarked as he opened it. "...No, no, these are tickets for a concert. Hmm..."

"Which one?" She took it to look over anyway - but _then_...

Daddy knocked over his bottle of grape juice in alarm when she suddenly screamed. "What's wrong?"

"This isn't a mistake!" she exclaimed. "This is from Prosecutor Gavin! He wants us to come to the Gavinners show!"

"Oh...?" Daddy looked it over again. "...You realize this is an invoice," he pointed out. "We still have to buy them."

"Yeah, but at twenty percent off," Trucy reminded him, pointing at one line of the bill that was included. " And we'd have VIP passes so we could go backstage! See? He really wants us to come!"

Daddy scratched his head, regarding her with amusement as she bounced on her toes. "...Since when are you a fan of Gavin's band?"

"I've got all of their albums," she said defensively, crossing her arms. "They're really amazing, Daddy! And their live show is incredible - there's all kinds of pyrotechnics and laser lights and strobes and things..."

He was looking at her funny. She knew that look - she'd taught it to him. ...Apparently it was kind of obvious that she had ulterior motives.

"You know he's something like ten years older than you, right?" Daddy said finally. She nodded. "If a man _that_ age actually was trying to romance a girl _your_ age-"

"Daddy!" she protested, even though she could feel herself blushing a little. "It's not like that!" ...Even if she kind of wanted it to be.

"It certainly isn't," he stated. "Gavin's in law enforcement, and he knows better. ...I just want to make sure _you_ do."

Trucy groaned. "Yes, I do... So can I go, Daddy?"

He didn't look convinced. "I don't know... it seems like the kind of thing a teenage girl probably shouldn't be doing alone..."

"So come with me!" Trucy suggested. "Pleeeeease?"

"Even discounted, the tickets are a little expensive," Daddy pointed out.

"Yeah, but..." It was the least they could do, after Prosecutor Gavin had done so much for them. And with the VIP pass, she could go backstage and talk to him, and... and maybe thank him for everything, and it would be so amazing and glamorous and dramatic and...

Her train of thought was interrupted by the office door opening. Apollo looked at the measuring look on Daddy's face, the eager look on hers, and his eyebrows furrowed. "...Maybe I should come back to take care of the paperwork later? If you two are in the middle of something..."

"Oh, no - it's all right," Daddy assured him. "Go ahead. Trucy and I were just discussing the possibility of her going to a Gavinners concert. I don't think it's a good idea for her to go alone - but I'm sure she doesn't want her totally uncool old dad tagging along, either."

"I really don't-" she began.

"So it's a good thing you're going too," Daddy finished, slapping Apollo on the back and handing him the envelope's contents. "You're about the right age to fit in at a show like this, and I know I can trust you to take care of my daughter. Make sure she doesn't get dazzled by any rock stars..."

"Ooh!" Trucy brightened. "You're right, Daddy - Polly really needs a little reward for all his hard work, doesn't he?"

"Er..." Apollo started, flustered. "Wait. What? Where am I going?"

Trucy ignored the argument between Daddy and Polly, and went to call the number listed in the letter to confirm their ticket purchase. This was going to be _awesome_.

\---

She had it all planned out. She'd rehearsed it at night, in her head, while she tried to fall asleep. She and Polly would have a great time right up front at the concert, dancing while Prosecutor Gavin rocked out. And then afterwards, she'd go backstage, and he'd be all happy and exhausted, and she'd look him in the eye and tell him thank you, from the bottom of her heart. And she'd try to give the earring back to him, and... actually, she couldn't decide whether he'd put it back in his ear, or he'd just close her hand around it again and tell her to keep it. But either way, then he'd take her face between his hands and lean down and...

...Okay, maybe he wouldn't, because like Daddy said - he was an awful lot older than her, and that could get him in trouble. But if he did, she wouldn't tell anyone! Even though Daddy might be able to figure it out, because he was getting really, really good at reading people since he stopped drinking. But anyway, it was going to be really romantic even if they couldn't express their true feelings!

Except that everything went wrong. First, Polly wouldn't dance, and wanted to stay back away from the speakers. Daddy would've been right up there, Trucy thought to herself with mild annoyance, though he probably wouldn't have danced. And that was probably a good thing, considering how coordinated he was when he tried to _play_ music.

Second, there was that whole thing where someone got murdered backstage in the middle of the concert. And though she and Polly got to hang around for a little while and investigate while everyone else was being sent out... well... even if she had gotten Prosecutor Gavin alone, it wasn't a very good time to talk about earrings and stuff. He was pretty busy whenever she saw him, and he looked really stressed out and upset. Maybe after the trial.

But then the trial didn't really end so well for him. With his best friend all but confessing on the stand, he just put on his shades and walked out after Machi was declared innocent. She couldn't find him anywhere in the courthouse - it looked like he'd just left.

And she didn't see him again until the test of the jurist system. Maybe she could find time to talk to him after _that_ was over, she reasoned. They could make history, him and Polly together in this new kind of trial - and then she'd take him aside in their triumph and tell him how grateful she was.

Except that his brother was involved again, and that messed up everything.

It wasn't that Prosecutor Gavin minded losing a case. She overheard him saying it herself in the lobby, after the jury had spoken and the court had adjourned. There was a reporter who had cornered him - apparently the guy hadn't noticed the way he was shrinking back against the wall, like he really, really didn't want to be there - and was asking him if he was disappointed at having lost this landmark trial.

"Not at all," he was saying. "Not at all. The whole point of this 'landmark trial', as you put it, was to test a new way of doing things, a way that might lead to us making the correct verdict in every single case. Today, I am confident that we reached the correct verdict, and so I can't consider it a loss. On the contrary, it was a victory for the legal system as a whole, including myself."

...He was _so cool_. But after he'd given the reporter a few more soundbites, and the guy had taken off, Prosecutor Gavin's posture changed. He just rested there against the wall for a second, staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. It was obvious he was unhappy, at least to Trucy.

This wasn't anything like what she'd been going over in her mind... but she approached him anyway.

He tried to brighten at once when he saw her coming. "Fraulein - congratulations on the defense's victory today."

"Uhm, thanks. But Mr. Gavin...?" she began. "You..." She didn't really know what she was doing - she'd never rehearsed a conversation that didn't start off happy. "You don't have to pretend everything's okay if it's not. I mean, believe me," she added, "I know how it is when you're a performer. You just kind of... act like you're happy even when you're not, because that's what the crowd expects from you. But you know what? I'm not a crowd. I'm just Trucy Wright."

Gradually, he decided she was right, it seemed - his posture sagged again. "Thank you, Fraulein. But I'd rather not talk about it."

"I understand that too," she said with a nod. Maybe she shouldn't have even gotten into this today after all, she thought, leaning back thoughtfully on the wall beside him. Maybe it would just be better to leave him alone.

But she just had this feeling like... well, yes, that was exactly it.

"You know, Daddy and I," she began, "we've been through some really hard times too. Sometimes I just didn't know how things could ever get better. It seemed impossible. But I kept hoping, and we kept trying, and... we had each other. Even when everything else was messed up, even at its worst, we _did_ still have each other."

And the way she felt about Daddy was kind of how he felt about his big brother, too, she thought. Some of those interview videos had shown him talking about his life as a prosecutor as well as his life as a rock star. He'd really looked up to Kristoph, and Kristoph had let him down. Kind of like Daddy had let her down - but way, way worse, because Daddy may have messed up his life and hers for awhile, but he hadn't _ended_ anyone's life. But she wouldn't have been surprised if Prosecutor Gavin felt the same way she had. So...

"And I think... things wouldn't have gotten better if we didn't have each other to lean on," she told him, and then nudged him with her elbow, nonchalant. "But maybe they still wouldn't have gotten better if a mysterious hero hadn't given us a little help too."

She didn't look at him right away - she was right, this wasn't a stage, and she was way more self-conscious now than she ever was when she was up in front of a hundred people. But when she got up the nerve to turn her head, she saw him looking back at her, eyes widened just a little. She had to fight the urge to look away quickly. "So you _did_ recognize me..." he mused. "I'd wondered."

"I didn't at first," she admitted. "And then I wasn't sure. But then I bought all your videos and I looked closely, and I saw something familiar." She'd already slipped the earring from one of her pockets, so that it seemed to simply appear, as if by magic, in her hand as she raised it.

"You kept it?" Prosecutor Gavin asked, surprised.

She nodded. "Money really was tight, and I was going to sell it... but then I found out what else you did for Daddy. I really, really appreciated it," she said, trying not to show how nervous she was getting at telling him all of this, "so I just worked really, really hard, so I could keep your earring, and remember."

In spite of his mood, he smiled, wearily. "It was no trouble, Fraulein. Between my two jobs, I had money to spare."

"It was still a fortune to us," she told him. "And..." And this was the tricky part, the part she had been trying to work up to. "...Daddy and I, we still don't have a lot of money, so I thought at the time I had no idea how I could repay you. But like you said, you've got plenty of money anyway... but it seems like maybe right now, you don't have so much of something else, that's... well, it's way more important than money. But it's something Daddy and I have to spare."

She tried to keep from hesitating too much as she struggled to find just the right words. "...So... if you ever need someone to talk to, or someone to have dinner with, or just someone to... hang out with for a while. I mean, just to have someone there... you know? Daddy and I - and Apollo, too - we're pretty good at... just being there for people who need it."

His eyes closed, his head leaned back against the wall. And Trucy felt like such an idiot. Here she was talking to this incredibly famous, incredibly _hot_ rock star, offering to hang out with him? He probably had way cooler people than her and Daddy and Polly to hang out with - and what was she thinking, inviting him to dinner? He probably ate at fancy restaurants anytime he liked...

But then, he reached over and dropped an arm around her shoulders, hugging her a little. "Danke, Trucy. I think... I'd like that. Not today - today I need some time alone - but maybe in a couple days, ja?

"Ja!" she agreed, unable to keep the wide grin from her face. He was _hugging_ her! "Whenever you want. Oh!" she added, supposing she'd better be honest. "But if you come for dinner, I guess I should tell you we don't exactly eat fancy stuff. Usually it's just like... mac and cheese or spaghetti or something. Maybe burgers. So I'd understand if you didn't want to eat something like that."

He smiled again, but this time it didn't look so tired, just amused. "On the contrary - I have to confess, I like mac and cheese quite a bit."

"Great!" He wasn't even just humoring her, she could tell! "Just let us know, and we'll be sure to make lots."

And she was looking up at him and smiling, and he was looking down at her and smiling, and... his hand was reaching for her hair, and...

...And it turned out he was actually just reaching for her hat. But when he'd tipped it off briefly, he bent his head in to kiss her on the top of the head lightly, and even if it wasn't a _kiss_ , it was a kiss. Trucy was thrilled. "Thank you, Fraulein Trucy," he murmured. "You're very generous."

"It's like you and the money," she told him simply. "This is something I've got plenty of."

Which reminded her... "Oh, and by the way, here," she added, holding out the earring again as he drew back. "I always kind of thought that if I found my mysterious hero again, I'd give this back."

He shook his head. "As I said before, it's no trouble." But he took it from her hand anyway, and pulled the clasp from the back. "Have you ever tried it on?"

She hadn't. It was to sell, at first, and then it was to give back, not to wear around and flaunt. But at the little tilt of his head and the quirk of his smile, she reached up, taking one of her own earrings out. His fingers brushed her cheek, pushed her hair back as he put it in for her. "It looks good on you, Fraulein," he told her. "It's yours."

And what kind of fairy tale was this, she wondered, where the prince is really Cinderella, putting the glass slipper on someone else's foot? The roles were all messed up. It was as ridiculous as the stories Uncle Larry had been writing since they'd last seen each other.

She stood by the courthouse, waving as her prince, or Cinderella, or whoever he was, rode off into the sunset - except that he was going north, not west, and it was only mid-afternoon, and she wasn't at his side. It wasn't much like a fairy tale ending at all.

Except that the handsome prince _had_ lifted the curse on Daddy, and they _would_ live happily ever after.

Daddy found her out front a little later. "Oh, there you are, sweetie. What are you doing out here?"

She shrugged, sheepish. "Just thinking... And by the way, I invited Prosecutor Gavin to come over for dinner sometime."

Daddy scratched his head. "...I guess that would be all right, but maybe you could have asked me first." He paused. "That's a mighty fancy earring you've got there."

"Oh, this? It was, uh..." She hadn't exactly thought of a good explanation for that just yet.

"Looks expensive, too. If Prosecutor Gavin does come to dinner," Daddy mused, a dark cast over his bemused expression, "I think I'll have to have a talk with him."

And no fairy tale Trucy had ever heard of involved the princess's dad getting on Prince Charming's case for being too old or too free with his money, either. But, well, they'd work it out eventually.


End file.
